


Pins, Part 2

by thewronglong



Series: Eternity Welcomes Careful Drivers [3]
Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett, Red Dwarf
Genre: Angst, Bentley is Freddie but not quite, Cats, GELFs, I Just work here, I don't know, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Lots of Cats, Multi, No beta we fall like Crowley, This is not the porn you're looking for, Wings, established Aziraphale and Crowley, i do reserve to right to get raunchy if I want, pining on the part of Rimmer and Lister, the M rating is for violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-24
Updated: 2020-01-17
Packaged: 2020-07-19 05:56:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 34
Words: 32,817
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19969138
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thewronglong/pseuds/thewronglong
Summary: In order to know what's going on you'll need to start from the beginning of the series... But..Life for the crew of the Red Dwarf will never be the same now that their fates are entwined with that of the Ineffable Husbands.





	1. Chapter 1

"It really is a nice little planet," Aziraphale commented, sipping his champagne. He and Crowley were having a picnic, and a very pleasant one at that. They needed the diversion. Since they'd come in contact with the crew of the Red Dwarf they had seen more action than they'd had in many, many millennia. 

Crowley made a noise of agreement and took on the scenery. Soft rolling hills, a small brook, scatterings of trees and bushes, he'd really picked a good spot, and there was no denying, Fushal was beautiful.

"Is it one of yours?"

"I'd have to look it up," Crowley knew it was, he'd known when he'd picked it for the cats. "This far out I just sort of threw things out and saw what stuck." 

"Well, it certainly is picturesque. I still find myself surprised when we find places such as these, teaming with life, so… inhabitable, but with no intelligent life of its own. I would have thought with all of dear Newton's talk of aliens we would have found some, but it seems that anything of importance seems to ultimately have Earthly origins."

"I wonder if the cats are to be Her new humans."

"Cats never ate of the tree."

"C'mon, angel, you know as well as I do that cats have always had free will, even when they were catching mice for the Egyptians. Those guys knew what was up, about cats I mean, it was just a matter of time."

"And the humans…" Aziraphale swirled his champagne, watching it's bubbles rise.

"Human, singular, I'm afraid." The distressed look on his angel's face made him backtrack, "then again he has reproduced, if you call becoming your own father reproduction. If it's any consolation the paradox he represents will keep humanity around… in a way. Too bad it doesn't look like they'll be any more Listers at this rate."

"According to Rimmer there's an infinite number of Davids and Arnold's out there, and in theory that woman as well. There's also the twins." Aziraphale smiled.

"Twins? What twins?"

"Oh, dear, I hadn't told you, have I? Our David had twin boys, Jim and… Berkeley, no that can't be right Bexley."

"Of course he'd name them after a footballer. They with their mum then? Let me guess, another one of these dimensions."

"They are in another dimension, yes, but they are not with their mother. Our David is their mother, from what I understand their father was a woman. A female version of guess who?"

"Arnold?"

"No, silly, though that would make much more sense. Himself! Can you believe it, the boy got drunk and… well, you can guess the rest. For some ineffable reason he was the one who was impregnated. Delivered via cesarean section of course."

"Of course. So the mom… err… dad-"

Crowley's thought was stopped short by a streak of blue arcing across the sky on a very dangerous collision course. "Is that who I think it is?" He asked, eyes wide.

"I do believe so, the foolish boy. I suppose we should go check and make sure he hasn't damaged himself." Aziraphale said, getting up and brushing at his perfectly clean trousers.

Crowley grumbled and snapped the picnic away, he'd had big plans for that blanket.


	2. Chapter 2

They snapped to the crash site before Rimmer had a chance to come to a very painful looking skidding stop. He bounced along the ground like an action figure that had been thrown by a toddler. Crowley stifled a laugh that got him an elbow to the ribs. 

It took the hologram a minute of groaning on the ground before he realized he was not alone. He went from confusion to indignation almost immediately, his face turning red with embarrassment. "You stalking me now?" He asked as he began brushing himself off. It didn't seem to be working so he made a quick shift to soft light and stepped to the side as the dirt and twigs that had been clinging to him fell to the ground.

"What a lovely trick!" Exclaimed Aziraphale. 

"Well aren't you just full of surprises," Crowley smirked as he watched Rimmer's tunic fade from red to blue and he returned to hard light. 

"I'm glad you find my holographic status so amusing."

"Don't be a smeg head, Rimmer."

Aziraphale shot Crowley a look of disapproval, "Do you always wear holographic clothing?" 

"I rarely wear non-holographic clothing, especially when I'm away from the ship. I have thirty six outfits to choose from, not to mention mixing and matching and color change. I suppose I could upload more, but my uniform does fine, never hurts to look smart." He smoothed the shining blue tunic.

"Can you manifest objects?"

"You mean like this?" Rimmer flicked his wrist out and a pair of aviators appeared in his hand, he put them on with the practiced cool of Ace. He shook his head and his hair lengthened, lightened, and straightened into Ace's signature do. 

"You will find," said Ace to Aziraphale while running his fingers through his now sandy blond hair, "that I am quite full of surprises."

Oh, Rimmer, you are a bastard! Crowley thought, as he watched his angel's reaction to the dripping innuendo. He guessed that this was Rimmer's revenge for calling him a smeg head earlier. He'd have been incensed if it wasn't for the fact that he knew the guy was completely gone on a certain scouse. He was, however, a little perturbed at the giggly little blush Aziraphale had on his face. He hadn't realised how handsome the git actually was, when he wasn't making a face like he smelled something bad but couldn't figure out where it was coming from. Hell, the guys voice was even different. Did he just put on a character just to hit on Aziraphale?

"Oh!" Aziraphale said with glee, "how marvelous."

"It's a hold over from the soft light technology. Death can get pretty hard when you can't touch anything, so holo-objects were essential," Rimmer said, returning to his old voice, he removed the glasses and dropped them out in front of him, watching them disappear as soon as they left his fingers. His hair returned to normal at the same time. 

"What about weapons?" Asked Crowley. 

Rimmer tried to decide if that was a threat, but figured if the demon was going to curse him he would have done it already. "Not many, Ace has a knife collection, but guns are pretty much useless. I tend to go with the 'flight' response instead of 'fight', much safer that way."

"Your flight didn't look too safe to me, looked downright painful. Why would you do that to yourself?"

"I was practicing, thank you very much. Some of us aren't celestial bird men." 

"I take offense to that remark." Crowley said crossing his arms seriously, amusing himself with the flash of fear it caused on the hologram's face. "Not the bird part, the man part. I haven't presented as female in way too long."

Aziraphale wondered if his husband was going to transform with a little thrill. He loved both versions of his demon, though they tended to prefer to present as male. It was always a special occasion when he got to remove silk stockings from long legs. 

"You can do that?" Rimmer glanced down the demons lithe frame, "I suppose you could." He felt a blush rising at the thought, but replaced it immediately. "Well, then…" he cleared his throat, "if you'll excuse me, I think I'll make my way back to town."

"It's such a long way off," Aziraphale couldn't even see the city on the horizon, "let us miracle you there" 

"I'll be fine, could use the walk."

"But.."

"He'll be fine, angel, come on, we have a picnic to finish." Crowley leaned in close. "He has his watch, we can track him."

Rimmer was already making his way down the hill on which they stood, trying to put distance between himself and the awkward encounter.

"Oh, alright dear, but I think I'll return to the ship. I gave some things to discuss with Bently."

"Since when did you have discussions with Bentley?" As far as Crowley could tell the two had a truce of mutual jealousy and catty remarks.

"Whatever do you mean? We are great friends."

"Huh?"

"Don't look so surprised, we've had many enlightened conversations."

"What? When?"

"My dear, you don't think I just sit and read when you are sleeping for centuries at a time?"

Crowley's mouth opened and closed. Actually he had thought just that.


	3. Chapter 3

The last few days had been a whirlwind of activity for Kryten. He'd not only led the clean up effort of the city, but had immersed himself into the scientific community of the Fushal Underground. He went over Starbug's blueprints with The Scientist. They were going to give the craft a complete overhaul. He missed the upgrades that the simulants had given the Starbug that had unfortunately met its maker along with a very unlucky rat. The craft sat in an underground hangar, towering over dozens of little cat spacecrafts, all designed for a war that the cats hoped would never happen. The cats had spent too long in deep space to have any delusions of their safety. 

The only craft im the hangar that was larger than Starbug was the salvage ship. It looked over the rest of the bay as if it were a mother and the smaller ship's were her babies. Salvage was essential to cat survival, they were expert recyclers and nothing went to waste. The salvage ship hadn't seen space since the Gelfs started dropping garbage onto their little planet. When one crashed the cats swarmed the site like ants to a discarded lolly.

As soon as Kryten heard of the salvage effort from the latest wave of discarded pods he had volunteered, intrigued. He discovered that it was more than just picking up trash. Each bit was scanned and cataloged and labeled for potential use. He found the process very relaxing and he and The Scientist fell into a rhythm that felt like they had been working together for years. They were becoming fast friends. He was quickly welcomed by the crews as well, being able to lift heavier objects and venture into areas that they called "iffy".

Now he stood at a small table on the edge of a salvage zone going over checklists with The Scientist. Another zone was just being set up a few miles away and the third was just going to have to wait, the preliminary scans came up with traces of radiation and they'd need different equipment anyway. 

An adolescent came running up from the direction of the second site, huffing and sweating. "There's…." He bent over, hands on his knees. 

"Oh, dear," Kryten went into mothering mode on the boy, "sit, have some water."

"What is so damned important that you had to book it all the way over here, you're no good to the effort if you're stroking out." The Scientist sounded stern, but looked genuinely concerned for the boy.

"I was told to hurry, sir." The boy protested in between chugging water. "There's a life sign, in what's left of the pod. They want you there, in case it's a… you know." He pushed his nose up, representing a piggy Gelf nose.

"Alright, I suppose they can do without me here for a while."

"Perhaps I should tag along, sir, I'm fluent in Gelf." Kryten made a series of noises that sounded to the cat as if he had a very persistent hairball.

"Yes, well, good. Let's go then." The Scientist had encountered Gelfs before, none of which who were interested in taking. He checked the gun at his belt.

When they arrived the work was at a standstill. Cats milled about, all afraid to get close to the end of the pod that was still intact. Kryten immediately took the scanner from the hand of a nearby worker without saying a word. It didn't even occur to him until later that evening how rude it was. Nobody noticed though, to them he was just behaving like the authority figure they saw him as. He was Of The Ship, after all. The fact that he was a mechanoid was besides the point, he ran with a very powerful crowd. If they knew the sort of things he'd found in their god's laundry pile they might change their minds.

"There's definitely something alive in there," he said, pressing buttons, "or someone. It's definitely Gelf, but this reading doesn't match any of the ones you have on file. The life signs are very weak. They must be injured." He began a quick lumber toward the downed pod.

The Scientist put his hand on his shoulder, stopping him. "What're you doing? That pod isn't stable, not to mention the fact that your damsel in distress could be a big hairy Gelf with a gun waiting to shoot whatever it sees first."

"And if it's not? If it's actually someone who needs our help? We can't leave them in there. You said yourself it was unstable. No, sir, I'm going to investigate this."

"What am I going to tell Cloister if you get yourself killed in there?"

"Mr. Lister has reassembled me before, I suppose he could do it again, with your expert help of course."

"I'd be dead, because The Boss would have torn me to bits. I might as well come with you. If I'm going to die, better with you than because of you."

"I assure you that will not happen, I've been on many salvage missions in deep space, and on structures less sound."

There was no use arguing, The Scientist was beginning to wonder if all Mech's were this stubborn, he had a feeling that Kryten was a special case. 

They picked their way through Gelf garbage until they reached the large pod. Half of it had disintegrated on impact, what remained looked was a twisted mess and Kryten had to strain to bend the shell enough to make a space for them to enter. It made the whole thing creak and groan as it bent, The Scientist cringed as the half pod shook then settled. Large barrels lay haphazardly around the inside of the structure, some had opened and The Scientist tried not to think about how his socks were now wet with an unknown substance as they waded through hip deep trash. 

"Over here, sir," Kryten followed the scanners readout. He began to dig. His progress was hindered quickly by a large dented steel drum. It took both of them to dislodge the thing enough to begin to lift it. They stopped when they saw a leg hanging out from it. 

The Scientist's stomach dropped when he saw the reddish brown limb, toes painted with familiar gold polish. 

"Boss?" He whispered, beginning to dig frantically.

Kryten saw the leg as not unlike his own, a mechanoid. That was odd the scanner read Gelf. When he heard The Scientist feared declaration he knew. He dug alongside the cat. "This is not your Boss," he explained, "you see your mate, I see a mechanoid."

"But…" The Scientist knew his female anywhere.

"It's a pleasure Gelf. Think about it, why would The Boss be here? I've only ever met one before, but she wasn't anyone to fear. She.." Kryten lifted a large hunk of metal off of the prone figure, revealing her face. 

Even with the large dent in her head Kryten saw a familiar face. It blinked up at him and groaned, he was still skeptical until she spoke. "Kryten?"

"Camille?" He pulled her up into his arms.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had to do it. I'm such a sap.


	4. Chapter 4

Crowley was stunned to find a new door I the long hall of The Bentley. "That's new." He said running his fingers over the golden placard that read "Lab."

"Bentley asked me about adding a room yesterday. I wasn't aware he could do it himself." Aziraphale looked surprised as well.

"Asked you? Where was I during this conversation?"

"I think you were going to go yell at some pumpkins. Don't give me that look, he mentioned it during my scan."

"Scan?"

"For a holographic body, if the need ever arises. I'll be needing you to do one as well."

"What… why would I need that?"

"My dear, we have been very lucky over the last few million years, never having been discorporated, but we both know that if we are there will be no more bodies for us. I've become used to this form, and very fond of yours as well. I was hoping that if something did happen we could possibly use a holographic corporation. In theory of course. I acquired some equipment from the cats. They don't feel the need to use such technology. They consider it counterproductive to reincarnation. You can't live out your nine lives if you keep yourself tied to one, or so e such. Bentley and Holly are working out the details now."

"But we already have hologram projectors, what do you call that whole Wizard of Oz floaty head thing that Bentley does in the rooms without screens? My star charts are holos too, not to mention all of my old concert footage."

"Yes, but that's soft light. We need to be able to interact with things." Aziraphale pushed open the door to the lab, stepping aside to let his demon in first.

Crowley didn't have time to wrap his head around the whole Aziraphale wants to be a hologram thing because his mind was now doing somersaults over the fact that Bentley had managed to create himself a new room. If it were just a matter of moving bulkheads and readjusting spaces it wouldn't be disturbing. 

The Bentley, the car turned ship, had many rooms. The library took up a great deal of space. Aziraphale wouldn't have it any other way. Upon entering the room, it would look as if you were entering the angel's old bookstore, complete with the original shelving and furnishings, but if you pulled a book from one of those shelves it was likely either a blank placeholder or a copy of another tome tucked safely away in the back. If you stepped through the door marked "Employees Only" you would no longer find an office, but just more books. Thousands upon thousands of them, if not more, all tucked safely way in shelves covered in glass awaiting someone to remove them from their stasis prisons for some light reading. That is if you could get the key to said stasis booths turned bookshelves, a key which stayed safely tucked away in a pocket of a certain angel. Perhaps if you took all of the bulkheads out of the largest floor of the Red Dwarf, and ignored things like square footage and physics, and you could fit Aziraphale's library into the ship, but it would be a tight squeeze. But at the moment The Bentley sat tucked away cozy in one of the mining ship's docking bays, not taking up that much room really. This was because Aziraphale's library existed in a pocket dimension created specifically to house the books. 

Crowley's gardens were no different. There were practically fields worth of pretty much everything the angel liked to eat. Miracled food never tasted quite as good as the real thing and Crowley liked to indulge his angel. The fields were pretty well picked over at the moment in a relief effort for the starving cats, but much remained, them not being able to redilly stomach many things. Aziraphale could still eat well even if they didn't miracle anything, that is if he wanted to eat vegetarian. Crowley had considered keeping livestock at one point, but then they'd have to kill the beasts and that wasn't something he wanted to do. They did have ponds with a limited amount of fish. Then there were the ducks. He wondered if the waterfowl could comprehend just how old they were. Their little slice of St. James's park was just a small portion of the pretend world in which Crowley grew his plants. 

Then there was the museum, sitting room, baths, and various other rooms that they'd added over the years some out of necessity, others on a whim. Just a couple of weeks ago they added a half bath after an inquiry by a very distressed David Lister. These rooms, these pocket dimensions, all had one thing in common, they were created either by Crowley or Aziraphale, the room they stepped in now was not. 

Bentley sat at a table in the middle of the room. Well, sat is a loose term for what Crowley saw. First he saw the head. The soft light manifestation of the likeness of Mercury was usually oversized and a little blurry, but this was not. This was a normal looking face, hair, even a neck and the beginning of a collar bone, almost like a living bust. It faded out into a broken prism of projection culminating at a light bee hovering around where the center of his chest would be, if he had one. He didn't have a body, more of a border where one would go if he'd bothered to have one, it was mostly just a stopping point for the random shots of light that the bee projected as it spun. He did have hands. One of those hands were holding a light bee, the other a soldering iron. He held a needle thin screwdriver between his teeth by the handle. 

He acknowledged the celestials with a nod, but continued his delicate work. It was a good thing too because Crowley wouldn't have been able to form words right then anyway. Bentley! His mind tried to process it all. His car was… a person now? Or was he a computer? A spacecraft? Capable of creating rooms aboard his ship? But he WAS the ship, so why not? He was the ship wasn't he, and the computer, and the car, and the… hologram. The frontman to bloody Queen? NO! He couldn't even open that philosophical door, he'd deadbolted that one ages ago. 

Aziraphale was first to speak. "I see you've made progress"

Bentley put down the soldering iron, leaned back in his chair, and smiled as he rolled the small screwdriver around in his mouth like a cigarette. "You are now the proud owners of two fully functional hard-light bees. Whatever good that will do you. They aren't as advanced as the one Rimmer uses but they'll do in a pinch. They'll project a form. The headset is still busted, though I doubt you would be able to scan those ineffing minds of yours. You saw what happened when it tried."

"You seem to not be having any trouble."

"I'm not exactly and angel though, am I?"

What are you!? Crowley's mind screamed. He watched amazed as a nearly disembodied hand rubbed at stubble on a nearly floating chin. 

"Do you need a headset for the body scans?"

"Nah, that's the easy part. You want to get yours over with, Crowley darling?" 

Shit! Thought Crowley, he was expected to answer that. "Ehh… ye… nnk sure." He shrugged and stuffed his hands in his pockets. 

"Up on the platform, arms out to the side, feet apart. Think Vitruvian Man."

Crowley's mouth fell open. Bentley laughed, "clothed is fine for now, love. The scanner can penetrate the cloth. Remove any metal and accessories."

Crowley's hands were still in his pockets, his fingers brushed something in his left hip pocket, something he'd tried to forget about. He knew he'd have to figure out what to do with it at some point, but he didn't feel safe letting it leave his person. 

Cat wouldn't take it back, he said it didn't match his suit anymore. Crowley knew better but didn't push the issue. He had pried one blood soaked disc out of the stage where it had been buried almost halfway into the hardwood. As soon as the disc made contact with its twin they melded together transforming into what was now a deep black fish shaped pin. It no longer shined, and seemed to be coated in the substance that blackened it. He was well aware of the two sets of expectant eyes on him. He started with his rings. That was the easy part, even the one in his left nipple. His boots, left next, having silver snakes imbedded in the backs of his heels. Finally, after stalling as long as he could he pulled the fish from his pocket. He held it out the angel.

"Crowley… is this what I think it is?" Aziraphale took the tiny fishbone.

"I didn't know what to do with it, couldn't just leave it lying around, no delivery man now."

Aziraphale closed his fist around the object and when he opened it his hand was empty. "There, it's safe now."

"Where?"

"Between the Shadwell/Tracy wedding set and the Hope Diamond. Now come, on the platform with you."

"If you're going to make an effort for this, now is the time." Bentley said teasingly, "we can do your female form at another time."

The demon lifted his arms anticipating the scan.

"Crowley, your glasses."

"Nnk? Oh, here." He handed the sunglasses to the angel. It was over before the demon knew it began. 

"Alright." Bentley announced and Crowley began to step down from the platform.

"Actually," Aziraphale stopped him, "can we do another? Wings out?"

"What for, our wings aren't part of our corporations."

"Yes but I thought the design could be used in another way."

Crowley scrunched up his face in confusion.

"You see I think that maybe we could help our Arnold with his flight issues."

"You and I both know that it's not the wings that make us fly."

"Yes, but neither would his, and they are useful for maneuvering and more importantly stopping. If we can get him to try the wings then maybe we can convince him that they will work."

"I don't see why he needs to fly in the first place."

"He must really want to or he wouldn't put himself through such pains. Perhaps if he convinced enough that it's possible it will start working for him. He has the ability, just not the belief. Who knows, maybe if it works it can be a confidence boost, something to help him in future endeavors." 

"Oh, alright. But why can't we use yours?"

"Because you are taller and your wings are so much tidier than mine."

"I don't think he'll like taking on black wings."

"I was actually thinking blue would be quite striking."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know, i haven't forgotten Lister or Cat, there's just so much I need to unpack before the story gets clogged in my poor little brain again. I spent a good couple of weeks all blocked up and now that it's flowing again it's hard to decide what to introduce when.
> 
> As always I both appreciate and ache for your comments. 
> 
> I need to know it's worth it to keep going.


	5. Chapter 5

Crowley was relieved to leave the new lab. As soon as he stepped through the door his knees buckled and he reverted to his snake form. Now to find somewhere warm and cozy to nap. The bookshop would be perfect. He always felt most at home there, even if it wasn't technically the bookshop anymore. A nap. Somewhere warm. He found both on the old sofa in the back of the shop/library. 

Lister didn't even notice the extra weight of the snake as he slept. He was sprawled out on the sofa much in the same manner that the now snake had done countless times. He had a book in his lap, as a matter of fact, he was surrounded by them. He'd raided the angel's stash of religious texts, the ones he could get to at least. He had done more reading in the past twenty four hours than he'd done most of his life. He didn't like to read. It wasn't that the reading itself was unpleasant, it was the fact that everything he read tended to stick in his head until it drove him completely spare. He could still recite The Adventures of Tom Sayer word for word and he was ten when he'd read that. He still dreamed of painting fences occasionally. Now he dreamed of a couple dressed in leaves. The man held a sword that he recognized immediately, it was raining and the drops sizzled on the burning blade.

"My son." The woman, no, Eve, was saying as she stroked his cheek. He was standing in The Garden, it was lush, green and beautiful.

"You'll need this." Adam said, handing him the sword. 

"I don't even know how to use it." Lister said, trying to give the weapon back.

"You will when the time comes." Said Eve. The couple turned and walked away, fading away as the garden died around him. 

He felt something brush against his ankle. Frankenstein was doing figure eights around his feet. He bent down to pick her up, cradling her large pregnant belly as he did. She purred and brushed her face into his palm as he scratched her chin. "You're about to have baby kitties, but you know that don't you? You know a lot more than you let on." 

She looked him in the eye. He knew she understood. 

"You told them about me, didn't you girl. Why? I'm nothing special." 

She looked indignant and huffed. Then rubbed her face against him again.

"C'mon, if it hadn't been me to pick you up it would have been somebody else." She looked at her belly, movement could be seen from under her fur. 

"I know, your kittens. But just because I was the one to put you in the hold doesn't mean I'm anything special. It was dumb luck, that's all."

She jumped from his arms, landing gracefully despite her bulk. He bent down and she rubbed against him one more time and meowed. Somehow he could understand. 

"You're special to me." Frankenstein waddled away in the same direction as Adam and Eve.

He wasn't sure if the water on his face was from the sprinkling of rain or from his eyes. A snake crawled out of a hole in the ground and began working its way up his body. It never occurred to him to be scared. He felt a calmness as it settled on his shoulders and he faded off into a peacefully dreamless sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know this portion gas been all over the place. I will try to tie some strings together in the next chapter and update you on Cat's antics.


	6. Chapter 6

It was an ordeal getting Cammile back to the infirmary. The opted for covering her with The Scientist's white coat, otherwise they would have had a riot on their hands. It took a visit from The Boss to fully convince The Scientist that she was not the one he saw on the table. Intellectually he'd known better, but emotionally he was still a bit shaken. The elderly doctor who'd first attempted to treat Camille broke down into a crying fit upon seeing her and had to be sedated. The pleasure Gelf had been in and out of consciousness and when Kryten asked her to revert to her true form she had just shook her head. Perhaps she didn't have the strength. He called a crew meeting, saying only that it was an emergency. 

Rimmer, who was already in the compound was first to show up. The mechanoid was surprised to see the look of pained fear on the hologram's face upon entering the infirmary. "What happened!?" He exclaimed running to the bedside, "Lis--"

"You remember Cammile, Mister Rimmer, sir." Kryten interrupted before Rimmer could say something he'd regret. Kryten was no fool, he'd noticed things over the years, but knew better than to comment on them. Humans could be so damned odd at times.

Rimmer looked down at the bloody and bruised face of David Lister then back up to Kryten, who nodded slowly. His face turned red and he began to back slowly away from the table until he reached the door and disappeared down the winding halls of the underground. 

Lister had told Holly to smeg off at least four times when the computer tried to inform him of the call from Kryten. He was finally awoken by a squeal of "MY BOOKS!"

Aziraphale was pulling something out fromi under his boot. A book. 

"Huh?" Lister asked groggily.

"What are you even doing in here? It was my understanding that you don't read." Aziraphale shook crumbs from a copy of what had become commonly known as "The Hoppist Apostice" a notoriously misprinted revision of the King James Bible. Aziraphale had found the misprint incredibly amusing at the time, until he saw the results of the movement it provoked. 

"I can read!" Lister grumbled.

Aziraphale frowned. How did the human even get in here. "Oh," he thought when he saw Crowley draped across the human. "Crowley, why didn't you tell me we had a visitor?"

"What makesssss you think that issss me who let him in? What's the problem. Theeeesssse booksss aren't the good onesss."

Lister was startled by the voice coming from beside his ear, even more so when he saw the large snake head from which the voice came. He knew immediately that it was Crowley, still, it was a bit alarming when the snake winked at him thin flicked at forked tongue at his cheek. 

"They're all good ones, Crowley."

"They're placeholdersss," said the snake, "his favorites are in sssstasisss." Crowley slithered down the man onto the couch beside him. Hissing and jerking away when he came in contact with a book. "Why would you be reading religious textsss?"

"I thought if I knew about God then I could explain to the cats that I'm not him."

"Her," corrected Aziraphale, "though I guess they've could have switched it up by now. Dear boy, if you wanted to know about God you should have come to me."

"Perhapss he wanted to form his own opinions." Crowley said as he made his way over to the angel's side, transforming into his human form. "Besides it's not like she's been paying much attention lately."

"She's still around," protested the angel, "I still feel her grace." To Crowley he didn't look as convinced as he should have, but he didn't say anything.

The comm on Lister's wrist beeped again. "Emergency, emergency… oh, bollocks, it's not as if you lot are paying me any attention. Cat's not even got his comm on. Caught by the barbs, that one. Surprised he hasn't thrown out his back… Emergency, Emergency," Holly continued on, "Kryten says there's one at least… anyone about?"

"I'm here, Hol'. What's happened to Kryten?"

"Dunno, said he wanted an emergency staff meeting, planetside. Something to do with the garbage crash sites. I'd stay clear of the third site, lots of radiation coming off that one."

"Can you put me through to Kryten?"

"Sure, that's all I am anymore, an operator, albeit a handsome one. Suppose you'd have more use for me if I could sing…"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Y'all still with me?


	7. Chapter 7

Camille and Hector's home had started out as a research facility, but over the years it had grown to a full blown colony. Most of the inhabitants were pleasure Gelfs, but they had a few androids and other misfits scattered among them. They were doing well, making a life for themselves. 

Then came Vira. She was a biologist, a brilliant one, not a pleasure Gelf, but dedicated to helping those in need, or so she said. She was from the Euracha tribe. The Euracha were more of a people than a tribe, numbering in the millions. They inhabited the planet Eurakak, a planet densely packed with leftover human structures. The place had been long abandoned when they landed there, but the Euracha had made it home anyway. They dug into the trash heap of a planet that the humans had left with glee, burrowing into the mass of broken metal like a bunch of ants. Vira was an outcast of the society of Euracha Gelfs, or so she said. 

With Vira's help Hector's research progressed by leaps and bounds. It wasn't long before they announced a vaccine. It was supposed to be a way to stay in a chosen form without being perceived differently by other beings. What was actually administered by Vira was a serum she had been working on in secret. It not only didn't keep them in one form it prevented them from returning to the blob state, the only line of defence someone like Camille had against unwanted advances. With the discovery of Vira's deception came the transport ship with its troops and guns. The little community didn't stand a chance. 

When the troops landed Camille had rushed to the lab to find her beloved Hector dead at the feet of Vira, knife still in hand. Camille saw red. She doesn't actually remember killing the large Euracha, but from what she gathered it had been brutal. She spent her first few weeks on Eurakak in the hospital recovering from some pretty nasty stab wounds. It went downhill from there. She only discovered that Vira was dead when Uaggrah, her new owner laughed and thanked her for saving having to pay for the new batch of slaves of which she was a part. Her duties as Uaggrah's pleasure slave would have been bad on it's own, but her owner liked to show off his new toy to his friends and co-workers, which made it absolute hell. Her only solace was that Hector had been killed before he could be used in such a way.

It was actually Uaggrah's propensity to rent out his pet that had gotten her as far as she had to escape. The two Gelfs who had her for the night had passed out drunk shortly after using her. She knew her chance when she saw it. She realized when one stirred as she began to sneak away that she'd never make it if they woke before morning, so she made sure they'd never wake at all. It wasn't too difficult of a decision under the circumstances. She only wished she could have taken out Uaggrah in the process. Two guards later she made it out of the compound where she heard of the garbage ships that would be taking flight in a few short hours. She realized once she'd snuck aboard that there was only one place to hide, in the garbage.

The ride itself wasn't horrible, smelly and boring, but better than the alternative. It was the landing that was the problem. She'd accepted her fate early on, death being the apparent outcome of her escape in almost every scenario. 

She'd thought she had died when she'd opened her eyes to see a familiar face. "Kryten?" She'd asked, disbelieving anything good could ever happen to her again. She didn't get to think on it long, having lost consciousness almost immediately. When she woke again she saw the face of an angel, perhaps she really was dead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Camille is a badass bitch.


	8. Chapter 8

"This a creature of magic." Aziraphale said, awed at the sight before him. Camille lay on the table, still unconscious, her image wavering before the eyes of the angel. The images she projected to those in the room seemed to muddle together in a blur of glamour. If he let his eyes relax and opened his mind to it he could see Crowley laid out before him. The image was obviously false, his husband was standing right beside him after all. If he concentrated enough to see through the image he could pick up on her other projections, although they were mostly just brief glances. A cat, the one they call Boss, a female mechanoid with a sweet face, Rimmer, and Aziraphale himself, he had to squeeze Crowley's hand at that. Beyond all of that he could see the true form of the creature, not a blob of green with a large eye and tentacles, but a neutral humanoid body, checked black and white. In all these forms he could see one thing, they were hurt. A large gash was gouged across the head and he was sure there was a concussion. 

"Magic?" Asked Kryten, "No, she's a pleasure Gelf. A genetically engineered life form designed to be a perfect mate."

"I'm sure she is, but I know magic when I see it." The fact that she held the illusions while unconscious was disturbing, if it was a mere spell it would take quite the effort to maintain so many different illusions at once. He placed a hand over the gash, closing the wound. The creature stirred, their eyes fluttering open.

Lister hung back, watching to see what appeared to be Rimmer hugging the mechanoid and sobbing. He knew the words that he had heard were about as real as the image he saw. It was disturbing, although not really surprising. He'd been dealing with these feelings for years now, it was just one of those things. He knew that Rimmer would never even consider him in such a way, so he just bit his tongue. It was hard enough dealing with it on his own, but Aziraphale and Crowley had pretty much screamed "WE KNOW", and now it was literally staring him in the face. 

He'd started dreaming about Rimmer almost as soon as he left. He'd encouraged the hologram to take up the banner as Ace, knowing that he would have a much better chance at a life than if he'd stayed aboard Starbug. Then there was the fact that Lister wasn't getting any younger. He wouldn't live forever and he didn't think Cat would last much longer than him. Kryten and Rimmer alone together in deep space would be a disaster. He'd long fixed the code in Rimmer's program that would shut him off upon Lister's death. He did worry about Kryten, by mechanoid standards he wasn't even middle aged yet. At least now he knew that if something happened to him he could stay with the angel and the demon, or at the very least, with the cats on Fushal. 

Then Rimmer came back. The living Rimmer was alright and all, the same man, in theory, but they didn't have the years of shared experience that he'd had with the hologram. It was as if the living version of the man was the ghost. Having a Rimmer made him miss his Rimmer even more, the dreams only strengthening the feeling. He tried to distract himself with Kochanski, but that infatuation was more of a pastime, and dropped off dramatically after finding out she was his mum. Thank God she'd spurned his advances. 

Then Rimmer came back, again. His Rimmer, his real, true, smeghead of a hologram. He'd appeared as Ace, only revealing himself after being asked about it. He wasn't sure if the holograms intended to stay when he'd arrived, but by the time all was said and done he'd convinced nano Rimmer to take his place, and Kochanski had left too. She had her own Lister to return to. He wondered sometimes if the couple would have the same sort of relationship once Holo Lister met the newly named Ace Rimmer. He also contemplated the parentage of the other Listers. Had they all managed to become their own dads, or moms, in some cases? Were there Listers out there who had a normal family. He hoped. 

But that was a tangent, he had his Rimmer back, and it was as wonderful as it was torturous. He'd put the hologram up on a pedestal in his mind, letting his imagination run away with him, knowing that he'd never see him again. It was a safe crush. "Was" being the operative word. He couldn't help but laugh at himself when he realized he'd fallen in love with the man. Why did he always fall for people he couldn't have? Then again, what options did he really have. He'd just have to deal with it, so he did. That was easier said than done now. Did Camille know the image she projected? He knew Rimmer had stopped by then abruptly left. What had he seen? Where was he? Lord help him, this was becoming overwhelming. He had to keep it together.

Keeping it together was exactly what Rimmer was not doing. He sat in an out of the way closet in a random hallway of the Underground. He'd ran until he realized he wasn't quite sure where the exit was and had finally collapsed beside a door. He'd pushed mops and cans out of the way and huddled up in a corner. He wasn't even sure why he'd run, it wasn't like he could outrun his feelings. Twin fists clenched and dug into his temples m, his elbows propped on his knees, he was crying, practically hysterical. A part of him told himself to get it together, he was starting to glitch. Why should he? He thought. Maybe it was better for him to just drop his bee in this closet. It would be ages before someone found him,ages where he could not be. Not exist, not be head over smegging hills in love with someone who would never love him back…. Could never love him back. Lister just didn't see him that way, he was sure of it. He wasn't even into blokes. 

Rimmer wasn't even sure he was unil a few months after he had become Ace. He didn't want to think about how the young man with chocolate eyes had reminded him of Lister, that just wouldn't do. He'd overcompensated after that with a long line of women, then gave in, and spent the next year bouncing from whatever bed he could get himself into, no matter the gender of the occupants. He wasn't running from his feelings for a certain scouse, he'd told himself, this was just what Ace did. It was part of the job, a perk, perhaps, but still a required part of the persona. 

It didn't matter who he slept with though, he'd still come crawling back, throwing all of that action away just for the opportunity to stare at Lister when he wasn't looking. He was pathetic, it wasn't like he'd ever get to be with the man. Arnold Rimmer was unlovable, he'd known that since he was four, even Nirvana hadn't convinced him otherwise. His neurosis wouldn't allow him to. 

Rimmer sniffed back simulated snot. Things were just starting to get better. Lister wasn't sick, he had a new friend, (He's an angel, his inner demons whispered, he likes everyone), and they seemed to be doing well for themselves among the cats. He was even treated with the awe and respect he'd always craved. Sure, it was mostly status by association, but he'd take what he could get. Now Camille had to show up, reflecting his most embarrassing secret back on himself. She was a reminder, a reminder that no matter how good things seem to get he'd never get what he really wanted… Dave.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've taken some liberties with Camille, giving her a more symbi-morph true form and using the green version as a built in defense mechanism used to prevent unwanted advances. This is mostly to reconcile my own headcannons. Opinions?
> 
> Also... Piney, piney, pine pine pine. This chapter turned itself into a Rimmer/Lister angst-fest and I'm not one bit sorry about it.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Trying to keep up a dialogue with so many people in the room is hard.

"Is it really you?" Camille asked with a sob.

"Yes, my dear." Kryten smiled his relief. The healing job the angel had done seemed complete. Still, her injuries seemed to go beyond physical. Her eyes leaked in a way that no mechanoid's could. He knew that she wasn't really a mechanoid, but seeing her like this bright back emotions he'd only bothered with once, emotions that for the most part he'd locked away with his memory of her. He'd never really desired a companion until he'd met her, and when she left so did that desire. "You've had quite a wild ride it seems. What could you possibly be doing in a garbage pod?"

"Hiding, escaping… Oh, Kryten, it was terrible."

"You are quite safe now. You are with friends." 

Camille looked around the room, only recognizing one of the faces besides the mechanoid's, but it wasn't Lister who drew her attention. She squinted at the angel, his smiling face having been the first that she saw upon waking. She could sense the images she projected to the people in the room. The two cats saw one another, how sweet. It was always nice to see true love, even though her image could make things confusing. She also realized that the one called Lister had changed his projection over the years, interesting. What she se sensed from the blond and his darker counterpart was different. They were a couple she knew, she was projecting each their image to the other, but the connection faltered. They could see beyond the image. She even suspected they could see what was meant for others. "You can see me." She said to the angel. It wasn't a question, but a statement. 

"Yes, my dear, and you are lovely." The angel smiled in a way that made her almost believe it. 

Crowley lifted his glasses and ribbed his eyes. "'ss giving me a headache, trying to keep up. Can you take the glamors down a notch?"

"Glamours? I don't understand. I can't turn it down. I'm a pleasure Gelf."

"Could you not revert to your true form?" Asked Kryten.

"My true form?" Camille remembered telling the mechanoid that the green blob form, her defense mechanism, was her true self. He had loved her anyway, despite the lie. "I can't, that image was taken from me, along with Hector."

"Oh, dear, I'm so sorry for your loss."

"It's alright, Kryten, it's better he died when he did than to have had to live through what came after. Hector was a gentle soul, not meant for…." She trailed off a tears filled her eyes.

The awkward silence that ensued was broken by more people filing into the room. "I don't know what's so important as to interrupt my sexy times," The Cat said, obviously annoyed, "but I'm here. There better be a good reason for it or there's gonna be hell to pay!" He spotted Camille and did a double take between her and The Witch at his side and grinned. "But then again, what's a little trip to help some friends."

Lister grabbed The Cat by the arm before he could do something foolish. "That's Camille, you remember, Cat. She and Kryten dated for a while." 

"You mean to tell me I was dragged all the way out here because of the snot princess? I thought she dumped you for booger boy and ran off."

Kryten, used to his shit, ignored Cat. "I brought you here because of this." He held up a pair of hemostats, clutched I the tip was a tiny chip. 

"What am I looking at here?" Asked Lister

"A tracking chip that was embedded in Camille's skin, apparently placed there by her former captor. We have reason to believe that he will be looking for her."

"Uaggrah is a very powerful clan leader, he will be looking for me." Camille elaborated.

"Are you saying that the Gelfs from that garbage heap of a planet Eurakak are coming here?" Asked The Boss. 

Kryten nodded.

"We've seen their ships,'' said The Scientist, "if they want to attack us I don't know if we'll be ready. All they would have to do is start aiming their garbage better."

"I think that the best course of action would be to take Camille aboard Red Dwarf. If they do decide to come looking for her we can draw them away." Kryten looked around for any better ideas. "Is it unanimous then?" 

"Where's goalpost head?" Cat looked around.

"He must not have liked what he saw in Camille," said The Scientist, "he left almost as soon as he saw her. Took off down the halls. No tellin' where he is by now."

"Maybe I should go look for him," Lister volunteered, wanting to get away from the fake Rimmer. 

"You'll just end up lost too," Crowley was averting his eyes from the changing images of the pleasure Gelf. "Even I get confused in here."

"I suppose I can go look," suggested the angel, he wasn't sure what the hologram had seen, but he had an idea. If it was who he thought it was, and being from Io, he could understand the poor sod's reaction. "If I get lost I can just pop back here."

"Right," conceded Lister. He turned to The Scientist. Is Starbug ready? I'd feel better having it back on the ship if we have to leg it."

"We could keep working on it indefinitely, but you can take it any time." 

"Good, Cat, you coming?"

"Can I come?" Asked The Witch, "I would love to see the home ship… if that's okay."

"Yeah, sure." Actually Lister was glad she'd volunteered to come. He doubted Cat would come if she didn't.

"How are you with glamours?" Crowley asked her. He'd actually tried a couple of surreptitious snaps to see if he could dispel the glamors surrounding the gelf, to no avail. Maybe they could do it the hard way round, his power and earth magic combined.

"They're a favorite among my sisters. I have a few books on the subject, but The Elder has more practical knowledge." 

"Fancy a quick trip back to yours? We can get whatever you need, may be up there for a while, then maybe over to your old witch's place for a crash course in glamour, that is if she won't come along."

"I don't think she would, but you never know with her. Let me mirror her and let her know we're coming."

"Right!" Lister clapped leather gloved hands. Let's meet at Starbug in three hours?"


	10. Chapter 10

Rimmer wasn't sure how long he'd been in the cupboard when his comm started beeping. He ignored it for quite a while, but the incessant disruption of his anguish finally drove him out. He still didn't answer it. He didn't feel like talking to anyone. He supposed that he'd have to at least ask some random feline the way to the hangar which contained Starbug. Having no other way to get back to his bunk aboard the Red Dwarf, he decided that having a good sulk in his bunk there would have to do. He wasn't planning on running into the angel before even seeing anyone else.

"There you are, dear boy. I was beginning to worry." Exclaimed Aziraphale upon spotting him.

"I'm no boy. I know comparatively I may seem so to you, but I've been dead for over 700 years. I would like to think that disqualifies me from such a demeaning term." Rimmer answered briskly, obviously upset about something or another.

"I mean no disrespect." Mumbled the angel, looking worried and more than a little hurt at the hologram's response.

Rimmer sighed. He couldn't bring himself to take out his distress on the angel. It was tough enough being salty to Lister with his sweet little baby face, but Lister, it seemed, had thicker skin. He knew Rimmer's barbs weren't to be taken seriously. Aziraphale, on the other hand, wore his heart on his well tailored sleeve. "Sorry, uhh.. so, what were you looking for me about?" Rimmer sucked at apologies, so he opted for a change of subject.

Aziraphale recapped the plan regarding Camille, leaving out incidentals like The Cat's behavior and being able to see other's projections. 

"I don't see why we have to tuck tail and run now," commented Rimmer, surprised at himself for not going with the "leg it" plan. He was usually the one suggesting such plans. "We can just re activate the chip and send them on a wild goose chase with one of the cat ships."

"That's… actually not a bad idea."

Rimmer had opened his mouth to argue in favor of his plan, then closed it again surprised at the quick agreement. He cleared his throat. "Sure it is, I'm full of great ideas, it's just usually nobody takes my advice." He didn't mention that it was because most of his ideas were either cowardly or morally ambiguous.

"That's a shame, we should tell the others. I must say, I wasn't ready to leave this planet yet. The autumn here is turning out to be quite beautiful."

"When you get out of the city. I don't care what Kryten says, the city still smells like rotten fish."

"The residents don't seem to mind, though I must agree that the countryside is much more pleasant. It's beautiful from above, although I haven't made much time for flyovers. Did you get a good look?"

"Not so much. Hard to take in the scenery when you're busy worrying about a crash landing. I'm beginning to think flying is going to be a pointless endeavor."

"Oh, no, don't think that. Flying can be wonderful. You just need a proper instructor."

"I think hurdling my bee around may be a little different than your method. I don't have wings for one."

"All it would take is a quick addition to your program."

"I've had Holly muck about with my form before. I'd like to keep my own appendages, thank you."

"Bentley had been studying holographic tech, he's becoming quite good at it. He's salvaged three bees already, one of which he's using for himself."

"He's got a body now?"

"Darling, you couldn't handle it if I had a body." Came Bentley's disembodied voice from their respective wristbands.

Aziraphale jumped. "Good Lord, Bentley!" 

"Do you listen in on all our conversations?" Rimmer asked him.

"Only when I hear my name. The projection I use is incomplete. I am currently using a bee because I needed hands to be able to fix Zira and Crowley's hard light bees."

"Why do you need light bees?"

"If one of us were to be discorporated we'd have a backup plan. I rather like having a body," explained the angel.

"Me too, spent far too long as a glorified ghost. It's not a good feeling. Not being able to eat or touch anything."

"I would miss eating." Aziraphale looked thoughtful.

"I still don't think I'd want wings…"

"Why don't you try them out once and see how it goes."

"If you tell Lister you'll be using that light bee sooner than later." 

Aziraphale clapped his hands excitedly, "I can't wait to tell Crowley! I can tell him, right? I'll probably need his help. Oh! Oh! We can spar! Have you ever used a sword?"


	11. Chapter 11

So they didn't flee. Not yet at least. Camille did, however, opt to reside aboard Red Dwarf. The decision was made when a very confused nurse had a mental breakdown claiming that Camille was her dead lover. A blade was involved and the unfortunate soul ended up in the hospital herself. Crowley wiped her mind of the incident, but the event was just further proof that the less people the gelf was around the better. 

Cat, who in the beginning was enjoying showing off his great ship, was starting to feel like a tour guide. The Witch and her colleagues were greatly interested in the ship in which their people evolved. It was an awkward conversation when he had to explain to them that the cities were gone, having never been reconstructed by the nanites. He was sympathetic to their disappointment. Over the years he'd stopped visiting what remained of the cat's city aboard Red Dwarf, but it had been a comfort knowing that it was still there, what little had remained after they abandoned it. Abandoned him. Well he wasn't even born yet, although still somehow he'd been dubbed The Abandoned One. A name that, although was always said with awe and reverence, had a tinge of bitterness to it that he tried not to think about. He was relieved when the demon had taken the cat witches off his hands for a while to doodle on the bulkheads with chalk and read books with odd scribbles in it. He knew how to read the words of man, and those weren't them. 

Crowley and the witches had raided Aziraphale's occult section of the library, many of the books having been passed down through the Nutter line although by the time they had reached the hands of Crowley and Aziraphale it was Anathema and not Agnes that was revered by the family. 

There were twelve witches in total. The Witch, which being the first met by the demon would always be the one to hold that title in his head, the sisters of her coven, two other covens, and three individuals practitioners who seemed to be forming an impromptu coven of their own. Word had spread about Crowley looking for experts in glamour and The Witch had been inundated with requests to join in the endeavor. She suspected that many were just looking to get their hands on new spell books or just for the bragging rights of being involved with such famous patrons. She'd also had to keep an extra sharp eye on her male in the process. The Cat was getting offers of his own, fortunately, so far, he seemed only interested in her. She didn't like how possessive she was becoming. She couldn't deny others access to him like she could the books that the angel had entrusted her with. He seemed content enough for the moment, said he was making her a dress. At least he was staying aboard the ship.

Lister had returned as well, going back to his research almost immediately. If you want to call obsessively reading any religious texts he could get his hands on. Aziraphale had made sure to provide him with plenty to work with without sacrificing any books that he didn't want damaged. Lister was much more careful now after having spilled Krispies and tabasco sauce on a copy of the Book of Mormon. Fortunately the angel didn't seem to bothered, calling the book more of a keepsake than anything to be taken seriously. He tried explaining that none of the texts that he'd pulled for the human were entirely accurate, but Lister seemed determined to try to make an effort in the whole being a god for an entire race of beings department, by finding a way to get them to direct their faith to the real God instead. Three days into his renewed effort Kryten found him passed out on a notebook, own in hand, mumbling verses in his sleep. 

Kryten had spent the last few days fawni and over Camille, trying to make her as comfortable as possible. They had caught up and seemed to be picking up right where they left off, save for the underlying gloom of the pleasure Gelf. Now she was off with Crowley and a gaggle of witches. He supposed that he should be grateful for the demons desire to help Camille, but he couldn't help but feel jealous. He wanted to be the one that helped her. He was already feeling quite mopey when he came across what was apparently a very exhausted Lister. His guilt chip went into overdrive. With his new friendship with The Scientist and the return of Camille he had been neglecting his duties towards Mister Lister. Who was going to take care of the man if he didn't, and the man certainly looked a mess. It took some work but he managed to get the man awake enough to escort him out if The Bentley and back to the bunk room, which was an absolute mess. It didn't appear that the hologram had been there lately, but when it came to making messes Lister didn't need any help. 

When he got the human undressed and into bed he busied himself picking up the room. He picked up the leather jacket that Lister had discarded just inside the bunk room door and went to hang it on a chair, but when he went to take it off the arm he had it draped over it stuck. Something attached to it had attached to him. A magnet perhaps? He pulled the jacket away but the little magnet remained. It wasn't very large, but somehow seemed enormous to the mechanoid as he stated down at it. It was octagonal, each side bending up at an angle to firm a smaller octagon inside. In the smaller octagon there was an image of a mop of all things. Why would Lister have something like this on his jacket, and why hadn't he noticed it before? He pulled it from his arm to examine it closer. It flew from his fingers, apparently attracted to the metal of his breast plate. He tried prying the thing off, but it began to glow a fiery red. He tried again after it cooled, but it wouldn't budge. He frowned down at the emblem that was now welded to his chest.


	12. Chapter 12

"Breakfast, sir!" Came the cheerful voice of the mechanoid. It was a soothing sound,and made Lister almost think that maybe the last few months had been some sort of crazy dream.

"Mmmm…" he mumbled into his pillow, "What time is it?" 

"Tuesday, sir. Rise and shine, brekkie's on the table, it's your favorite, kippers vindaloo and strawberry waffles."

Lister rolled out of bed, still a bit shaken from his dream. He had been fighting this giant named Goliath, but it wasn't a man but instead a giant gorilla wearing an absurd amount of makeup and a plunging neckline. He drug himself to the bathroom and tried clearing his head by sticking it under the tap. The words he saw when he closed his eyes now we're still there, but now he was damp and cold. Oh well, at least there was food. Tuesday, huh? A good day to spend drinking. He grabbed a beer before settling at the table to dive in. 

Kryten was hovering. It used to bother him when he did this, but here lately it seemed he was doing it less and less. For someone who has spent decades wishing for a change, Lister was having a difficult time adjusting. He was halfway through his first plate before he gave the mechanoid a good look. What was that on his chest? He squinted. Recognition hit him along with a wave of nausea. He froze, fork halfway to his mouth.

"Is there something wrong sir?" Kryten asked nervously. He could tell what the human was looking at. He didn't mean to steal the emblem, it just attached itself. 

"Where did you get that? Take it off!" Lister had a spotty memory at best of the events that happened on the stage, but he'd seem the broadcasts. The image of Cat, tied and whipped, his back being shredded by an entity that had lost his mind, was etched into his brain. He'd decided that if that was the result of giving out the pins then he'd just hold onto them. 

"It was an accident. I was tidying up and it came off your jacket and stuck itself to me. I've made multiple attempts to remove it, but it appears to be welded on." 

"Get Aziraphale or Crowley to help then."

"I tried, but they said…." Kryten looked off to the side, "they said it was mine."

"Smeg! Smeg! Smeg! Smeg!" Lister shouted, his fist hitting the table joining the curses. 

"I could get a new chest plate! Or, or, we can just cut around it. I'll go get the torch."

"No, Kryten, they're right. It's yours. I just don't like what it means."

"Wet floor?"

"The horsepeople, Krytes. I gave Cat that bloody fish and not even a week later Famine shows up. We all know how well that went."

"You think that me wearing this will bring…."

"Pollution."

"But that's only two riders. What about the other two?"

Lister grabbed his jacket and showed Kryten the lapel. The round pin with the sword shone against the black of the jacket. "War"

"And the last?" 

"He's not getting it! And if you say anything I'll… I'll never speak to you again!"

"I won't, but from what you're implying, you may not have a choice. It appears I did not."

"Don't… just don't… I've already got a whole race of cats thinking I'm god, Rimmer's avoiding me, Cat's probably leaving, you've got a girlfriend, and I'm pretty sure Aziraphale and Crowley expect me to rebuild the human race. How they expect me to do that is beyond me, but the way things are going it's not looking good. And now… now.. Pollution? Then what, War? Am I meant to be a smeggin' general? I know smeg all about war. That's Rimmer's department, but apparently that's not in the cards. He gets Death! Death! You can't kill death!" Lister slumped forward in his chair and rested his forehead against the edge of the table. He was crying, but hadn't realized it yet. "I just want everything back to normal. Boring and normal. At least when someone was going to try to kill me before I didn't have to wait around for it."

"I'm sure it will be fine." Kryten patted him on the shoulder. "We wouldn't be tasked with these things if we couldn't handle it. Look at Cat, he's no worse for the wear. He's got a female, a title, as gruesome as it is, and the respect of all his people. Quite a surprising turn of events, if you ask me. Did you see him, he destroyed that entity with his own scales. I think that's what some would call bad ass."

Lister rolled his head over to the side to look at the mechanoid, surprised to hear him use such a term. It was like that time he'd heard Aziraphale say "fuck". He started giggling, which turned into a laugh… and almost, but not quite hysterics. It took a minute, but he finally calmed himself. 

Kryten still looked worried. "I think it would be best if you took a break today. Try not to think about things too hard, and, for goodness sake, don't read!"

Camille was bored. She sat on a nominally comfortable lawn chair in the middle of a circle of chanting witches. At her feet were drawing, and more circles, and so on and so on. There were at least six feet of runes between her and the closest witch. At first she'd found the whole thing fascinating, watching the cats turn their images to this and that, practicing for the main event… her. They'd started with trying to dispel whatever it was they'd decided had a hold on her. What they hadn't accounted for was the fact that the spell was literally written in her DNA. That was why Hector couldn't make the breakthrough he so much desired. He didn't factor magic into the equation. She wondered if these magic users were successful would they be able to use it on the others. The others… she couldn't stop thinking about them. She knew she hadn't really abandoned them, there was no way she would have made it if she hadn't gone it alone. She'd go back for them, she had to. So Hector dead they were her responsibility. After all, she was the one who had promised them a better life if they stayed. Now look at them, slaves of the worst sort. Even the BEGG slaves had it better. All they had to do was dig and eat trash. Maybe she could talk them into helping with the rescue. Who wouldn't want their freedom? She hoped all of this chantit and drawing would work so that she could finally have hers.

The Witch had given up on dispelling the Gelfs glamours, opting instead to cover them with stronger spells. Invisibility had worked, but Camille wanted to be seen. Now she combined it with another false image spell. Hiding the gelf and projecting the image of the mechanoid she wished to portray. This was it, if this didn't work she was out of ideas. As they chanted the image of The Cat sitting in the middle of the circles began to waver and then vanished. Good, now for the hard part. She picked up her chalk and got back to work drawing glyphs.

Crowley leaned against The Bentley, watching the proceedings. He wasn't needed by the witches, and frankly, made a few of them nervous. He was nervous. It was him, after all,who had given Camille hope. If this didn't work, well, sorry, i guess. He watched as she vanished to the naked eye. Then after more drawing and chanting a new image began to appear. Aww, she had chosen the image Kryten saw. 

"Did… did it work?" Asked Camille. A series of nods was he'd answer. In her excitement she began to step out of the circle.

"Wait!" Called The Witch. "It only works within the circle… until I can figure something else out."

"You mean I'm stuck in here?"

"Now we know it's possible, we just have to find a way to capture the spells so you can be mobile."

The pseudo mechanoid threw her hands up and flopped back down into the chair.

"Perhaps," came Bentley's disembodied voice, "I can be of service."


	13. Chapter 13

Bentley's lab was a mess of parts, the table he had been using had expanded a few feet and a box of light bee parts sat beside his chair. "It doesn't have to be hard light if we shrink it down enough. Even with soft light she won't be able to break the lines of the spell if she isn't the caster, much like if I tried a summoning."

"You seem to know an awful lot about magic for a ship's computer," commented The Witch, who sat across from the not quite a hologram at the table. Her side of the table was spread with you books, some hers, some belonging to the angel.

"I'm not your everyday computer, I have most of Aziraphale's books scanned into my memory. I'm sure he's probably got some hidden somewhere that I haven't seen. Hell, he just recently let me have a look at his witch tomes. It is nice to be able to muck about with the practical application of such knowledge. Though it would be easier outside."

"Come down to the surface, I'm sure you'd enjoy yourself… you've got quite the following now. That is you isn't it? On the tapes?"

Crowley had introduced the cat population to Queen. What else was he going to do with over 2500 copies of their greatest hit? The felines ate it up, copies of the copies were being circulated like mad and many cover bands had popped up. 

"That's… arguable." Bentley frowned. He'd spent so long deflection this line of questioning it had become second nature. He knew Crowley was more than a little put off by the whole thing. At first it was fun to tease him, but when he saw the demon's face at his new holographic status, he started getting worried. The truth was,he wasn't sure himself. He remembered a boy named Farrokh and a man called Freddie, but it was mostly just vague images… emotions, a past life that if there wasn't video evidence he wasn't sure happened. At the same time he remembered the first time a certain demon sat behind his wheel, the feeling of the wind rushing past his body, the magic seeping into him making his engine purr and push his limits. And fire. He remembered fire… fear pain, the rebirth at the hands of the Antichrist. A new life, and the sense that now he was something more, someone more. His first real memory was just that, and actually memory, stored on the banks of an onboard computer, a computer that he'd reached out for, made his own, made him. Him. Bentley, not a car, not a man, not even a computer really, but the sum of these parts.

"I don't think that leaving the confines of this vessel would be wise." He wasn't even sure if he COULD. The hologram provided a centering sensation, but he was still essentially the vessel as well. He feared the split that would occur if he separated from the whole, though the idea had its merits. Perhaps it was possible, but now was not the time for unknown risks. "Besides, I have work to do. Try this." 

The Witch dropped the chain that held the light bee around her neck, pinching it on both ends she activated the device. In the last week or so she had become quite familiar with the technology. While the other witches stayed outside of The Bentley to study over their newfound source of knowledge, she was given the opportunity and the honor of helping troubleshoot this new combination of magic and technology. Some would argue that this honor was bestowed upon her because of her connection with The Abandoned One, but those who knew better knew that The Young Witch that could read the writing of man was uniquely qualified for the task. 

The bee sprung to life, no longer hanging by the chain, but hovering on its own accord. The Witch spoke a few words and a white light became visible. A smaller version of the design that they had used to surround Camille days earlier was drawn in the air by the light. The image expanded just enough to encircle The Witch, but no further. She changed some more, then the spell took hold and she disappeared from view. 

"Ha! Finally." Bentley shot a fist in the air in triumph. He couldn't see her, but he could hear The Witch's enthusiastic response. This was the farthest they've gotten so far. 

She began chanting, and a new image appeared, Bentley sat across the table from himself. "Really, darling?" He laughed.

"It was all I could think of."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My idea was to use light bees to cast spells. Instead of having to go through the process of drawing glyphs and circles with every casting all you would have to do is activate a pre loaded bee. This also gives the advantage of being able to cast in open space. 
> 
> I also wanted to do some character development on Bentley. He's becoming a favorite of mine. When Adam ressurected The Bentley he added something else that wasn't there before. Maybe it's the spirit of Freddie, maybe it's the magic of rock and roll :). Nobody really knows. 
> 
> Any questions? 
> 
> Comments keep me writing, let's me know it's not in vain. 
> 
> Back to Camille in the next chapter, and maybe some Rimmer and Zira.


	14. Chapter 14

You would think that with her newfound freedom Camille would be overjoyed, but Kryten found it to be quite the opposite. The romantic dinners and quiet nights at the cinema seemed to barely cause her to crack a smile. "Are you okay?" He asked as they siped cocktails at Parrot's a few nights after her spells were put in place. "Is it me? I know I can't compare to you Harold, but I thought we had something."

"Oh, no, Kryten, it has nothing to do with you. I guess I'm just feel bad, for feeling good. Here I am, drinking and dancing, enjoying myself.. meanwhile my people are back on that junk heap being… being.." her voice broke and she couldn't bring herself to finish the sentence.

Kryten moved to her side of the table, putting an arm across her shoulders. "It's not your fault, it's people like that Uaggrah who are responsible. I know survivors guilt can be strong, but you can't let it eat at you. I've seen it before with Mister Lister. He's been on the brink of a drinking problem for years. I tend to keep only a few cases of lager around at a time, then every few weeks I just so happen to come across more. It's quite a feat to keep him from sniffing them out. I was able to break him from that dreadful cigarette habit, but I'm afraid the alcohol is going to be more difficult. I should have a word with that demon, his never ending bottles are going to be the death of me." Finally he stopped his tangent, halted by the look on the gelf's face. "The point is, my dear, I'm here for you. You can't dwell on the past, but you can make yourself a future, and I hope that I'll have the honor of being included in that future." 

"That's very sweet of you, and any future I may have i hope to have you in it, but I can't move on, not from this. I can't just sit here while they're suffering. I have to go back."

"Go back? You can't! They'll kill you… or worse."

"I have to try."

"There's no way I'll convince you otherwise, is there?"

"I'm afraid not."

"Then I'm going with you."

"It's too dangerous, I couldn't live with myself if something happened to you."

But Kryten had already made up his mind. Or, that is to say, his mind had been made up for him. He thought of the symbol on his chest, The Cat, blood dripping down his back. Would Pollution be as insane as their brother? He was sure that he was going to to find out. "My dear, you don't understand, I must go. It's ineffable."

Rimmer pitched forward, overcompensating for the additional weight that was now attached to his shoulder blades. "So much for the phrase 'light as a feather'" he grumbled.

Bentley laughed and tapped at a floating holographic screen. "I had to make some adjustments to the design. Pulled some things from Zira's books on raptors. You have several new muscle groups to compensate. The wings of celestials, although beautiful, are more form than function, though I'm hoping yours will be both."

"They are quite stunning, if you don't mind me saying." Aziraphale said, circling the hologram, not unlike the way Crowley tended to do. He wondered if the feathers would feel the same, but touching another's wings was a level of intimacy that he didn't think Rimmer would appreciate. "I do like the blue. I wonder, could you turn soft light."

Bentley grinned when he asked this, knowing what would happen. The colors of the feathers shifted along with Rimmer's tunic. Aziraphale was reminded of a cardinal.

"You can also turn them soft light while you are hard light, and vise versa. I thought I was going to have to do adjustment to your mind and eyesight, improve your farsightedness and all, but apparently someone else did that for us. You've had your program adjusted before."

"Sight is essential to piloting. Ace is supposed to be a test pilot, a spitfire. Every Ace before me added something. Every one more powerful than the last. That's the theory at least." Rimmer returned to hard light, and stretched the wings experimentally. 

Aziraphale ducked away just in time to keep from getting slapped in the face by blue feathers. I think it would be best to move this experiment to the surface. That is, if Bentley here doesn't mind."

"Any adjustments can be made remotely. Your menu of objects had increased as well. Don't go playing with swords until you can fly without slamming into anything. You may not be able to stab yourself, but there are certain entities with corporate forms that still bleed as red as any human." Bentley glanced at the angel as he spoke to Rimmer. 

"No killing Aziraphale, got it. Anything else?"

"Yeah, have fun."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I fear that this work hasn't been as good as the rest of the series. Maybe people just lose interest after so many chapters. Maybe I'm wrong. I don't know. Things are going to start to pick up again soon. Kryten and Camille have quite a job ahead of them.


	15. Chapter 15

Not killing Aziraphale was not a problem, he had enough trouble just keeping himself in the air. The celestials made it all look so easy. Rimmer did have to admit that the addition to his anatomy did cut down on the pain of flying, especially landing. The angel assured him that it was just a matter of time before he would soaring like a bird. He wasn't sure he believed that, but at least with his hard-light body he could turn of the muscle aches and pains he now associated with flying. 

Still, he had to admit the whole ordeal had turned out to be rather fun, especially the sparring. They stuck to the ground for now. Rimmer's training kept separate until he was adept enough at both to combine the two. What he was training for he wasn't sure, and quite frankly too afraid to ask. What he was told was that it was all just for fun, that the angel and the demon liked the idea of having someone new to fight that they hadn't memorized the moves for thousands of years ago.

Both Crowley and Aziraphale were able swordsmen, though neither had ever seen actual combat. Shortly after the Apocanot they decided that if there was a war, heaven and hell against man, that they should be ready for it. What started as an exercise of desperation became a favorite pastime, a way to flirt and talk smack while getting to spread their wings. Rimmer had heard, and used, the word awesome countless times, but he never knew what it really meant until he saw the two engaged in their mock combat. Steel would flash, wings would flutter, bodies would go tumbling all while staying airborne and in constant motion, a dance of black and white feathers and shining steel. Rimmer would have never pegged Aziraphale as the warrior type, Crowley either for that matter, but with a sword in the angel's hand it was apparent that he was created for God's army. He wasn't just a minor pawn either, he was a principality, through and through. Then he would land and the sword he wielded would return to the other and once again he would just be a book dealer from Soho who had a propensity for tartan and good food.

As it was Rimmer wasn't so bad himself. It did help that even though the slap of a hilt did sting he couldn't be cut or stabbed. Then there was the fact that as soon as he found himself disarmed the weapon would cease to be and he could manifest a new one as quick as a flash. It was also a neat trick to switch hands or manifest a second blade or a shield when needed. It felt good, going all out, amping up his strength and speed to the levels he'd used as Ace. Still, he had a long way to go before he could even begin to compete on a serious level with the angel or the demon. One thing was true though, he was having fun with it. 

….

Kryten had called another meeting. He actually planned this one ahead of time though so everyone would actually show up. To Lister it was almost surreal to have everyone in the room together. In the weeks since Camille arrived everyone seemed to have scattered. He'd spent most of his time in Aziraphale's library, becoming even more of a hermit than when he was out in deep space. He found it bitterly ironic that now that he had an entire planet to explore and people to interact with he was more alone than ever. The Cat was the only feline that didn't look upon him with reverence and awe. Even The Witch seemed to think twice before she spoke to him. He was just a man, dammit. He hoped that the notebooks he'd filled would prove it. His head ached as he waited on his bunk for the rest of the crew and the leaders of Fushal to congregate. He wished he could get his mind purged like Rimmer's anxiety purged, his head ached with thees and thous. 

Speaking of Rimmer, this was like the first time he'd seen him in weeks. Had his shoulders gotten broader? He knew when he was being avoided. Sure he'd spent most of his time in the library, but after Kryten had started watching him like the mothering thing he was he had started actually retiring to the bunk room again at night. If Rimmer had been back there at all lately it didn't show. Strange how he was surrounded by people for the first time in forever but felt so alone. He knew why too. Rimmer was avoiding him. He didn't want to be angry about it. He was glad that he had managed to make a friend in the angel. Funny how he missed him more now than when he was off being Ace. He'd have to do something about it, but what? The git wouldn't even make eye contact with him.

Kryten was speaking now, Camille standing beside him. Lister had to admit her mechanoid persona was smegging adorable. He was happy for Kryten, and Cat too. He and The Witch sat cuddled up together, their love obvious. It wasn't the comfortable companionship that The Scientist and The Boss seemed to have, their love was still new. The honeymoon stage, they used to call it. Everyone there seemed to be paired up. The two cat couples, Kryten and Camille, Aziraphale and Crowley. Hell, even Bentley and Holly had a tolerating respect for one another. Then there was himself and Rimmer, the two odd men out. He stole another glance at the hologram. His chest seemed larger too. Must be messing with his program again. Or maybe Lister's mind was playing tricks on him. He rubbed his eyes and tried to pay attention to what the mechanoid was saying. 

"...we've decided the best course of action is to infiltrate the slave population. Camille is sure her fellows from the colony she lived on would be willing to lend a hand, but the success of this exodus will be dependent on the cooperation of Euracha's large population of BEGG slaves. Getting to the planet should be easy, just a matter of letting ourselves be captured and used as our, I mean my, primary function as a cleaning droid."

"And where are all of these… people supposed to go?" Asked The Boss, "we don't produce enough trash for garbage Gelfs to be able to feed on, everything gets reused. Not that," she looked to Camille, trying her best not to offend, "anyone would be unwelcome."

"I have thought of that." Kryten went on, "I've found an abandoned planetoid not too far from here, it may take a while to get there, but it should be sufficient for their needs."

"Wait a minute," Lister interrupted, just now having it all sink in. "You're leaving? To go to that trash planet."

"It's only for a little while, sir. I'll be back ironing your shirts in no time."

"Smeg my shirts Kryten, do you have any idea how dangerous this… plan of yours is?"

"Camille has been there, she knows the lay of the land, so to speak. I assure you sir, I'll be perfectly fine."

"But that place. There's…" Lister glanced at Rimmer, all to aware of the remaining pin he'd yet to give to the hologram. He'd even gone so far as pin it backwards where it stayed hidden in his pocket. He didn't know what to say without giving the game away. "There's Pollution there."

"All the more reason to go."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I swear I'm not trying to turn this into a Rimmer wing fic. Should I tag it? I didn't tag the pins part 1 as a sick fic, though technically it kinda was. 
> 
> I'm trying to push along Kryten's story line as well. Writing Euracha hasn't been as easy as it was for Fushal, but I'm going to give it the ol college try. 
> 
> Please let me know what you think.
> 
> Love you guys


	16. Chapter 16

"And why the smeg not? I can do like she's doing and become a Gelf or a mech or whatever. You shouldn't be going it alone Kryten. I can help." Lister had been trying to convince the others to come and help Kryten and Camille as well. 

The mechanoid had insisted that their plans required then to become slaves for a while, something that he would not allow Lister to do. It would be hard work, not to mention dangerous. "They would smell you out immediately, sir, no to mention the work involved."

"You won't just have to deal with the Gelfs and you know it."

"There's no guarantee that this entity you fear will even be there, and from what the celestials say the behavior of the one known as Famine was an anomaly. It was mere chance that we encountered them in the first place. The universe is a large place, the chances of us running into another horseperson is astronomical."

"Oh, come off it, Kryten. You're going to to a garbage heap they call a planet. Pollution is probably the king on high!"

"And if they are? The planet was lost to them ages ago, they can have it. We're just going to pop over there, pick up some friends of Camille's and pop right back, it won't take a fortnight." 

Kryten was getting pretty good at lying, especially to protect Lister. He knew that the trip would be no cakewalk, Camille had made sure to reiterate the fact every chance she got. His only solace was the fact that he would be in constant contact with both Bentley and Holly. He had a direct connection now, no longer dependant upon wristwatches and shoestring electronics. Camille was also getting a crash course in magic. The light bee that produced her glamour was being constantly updated with new spells and cantrips. She could even summon Crowley now if need be. It would mean dispelling her own spells, but if they got to the point of needing the help that would be the least of their worries. 

"I don't believe you." Lister said, flopping down on Rimmer's bunk. "But there's nothing I can say to change your mind is there? It's that bloody pin, it's frying your circuits"

"I assure you my circuits are in perfect working order."

"What is it then? Some form of mechanoid love overture? Gotta prove yourself by getting yourself killed? How's that going to help anyone? And what if you're successful? I looked up that planet, it's not exactly close by is it?"

"Well, sir, I…" Kryten stammered.

"Look, I don't expect you to hang around with me forever. I probably have like thirty years left, max, you deserve to have love, to be happy. I just… 'snot fair. The more people I meet the more friends I lose."

"Oh, Mister Lister…" Kryten said, sitting on the bunk beside the man.. "David, I know that I was the last to join our little rag tag group, but you must believe me when I say that meeting you was the most important thing to ever happen to me. I've learned a lot from you, and I'm not just talking about breaking my programing. I've learned that there are more important things in this universe than cleaning and serving, bigger things, things like friendship and family. I never even let myself imagine that I'd ever have a family, but with you and Cat and, as hard as it is to admit, Rimmer, I've found one. I think that now Camille is my family too, and with that comes new priorities."

"You make me sound like a parent whose kid is getting married, I thought you were the mum around here." 

"I suppose I should show you how to work the washing machine, though I dare say I'll be back before you resort to actually using it."

"You don't know that, even if you… no when you come back, you don't have to stay, not just for me."

"It would be for me. Red Dwarf is my home. I've already discussed it with Camille. Once her people are safe her mind will be at ease. She prefers the isolation the ship offers."

"Isolation is right" Lister murmured, his mind going to the once again absent Rimmer.

"You don't have to stay up here. The cats will realize you're no god, all they have to do is get to know you, or do your laundry for that matter." 

"How bout a party? Before you go… we can have a real banger. Just us, and maybe some of those witches, they seemed pretty chill. We can have it on the ship, invite only.". Lister shot up and started writing a list of stuff he'd need.

Kryten fought the urge to tell him to wait until is plan was successful, but he hadn't seen the man smile like he was in weeks. Let him have his party. He and Camille could sneak away in the aftermath.


	17. Chapter 17

Lister begged the coordinates of the celestials and the hologram off of Bentley. Bentley knew he'd catch hell from Rimmer if the hologram got caught with his wings out but he couldn't say no to the human, he knew now how Crowley felt when Aziraphale gave him puppy dog eyes. Mostly he was surprised to see the guy willing to go planetside and not seem to be overwhelmed by life, the universe, and everything. The promise of booze helped . He even invited Bentley to the party, a fact that Bentley had found very amusing seeing as how the whole affair was taking place in his ballroom, a room he'd conjured up just for the occasion. 

Blue Midget made the plunge through Fushal's atmosphere with Lister at the helm. He'd been warned away from landing too close to the coordinates, Bentley saying that he might run into a flying angel if he tried. Great, he thought as he wrapped his leathers tight around himself, he'd have to hoof it. It was only a couple of miles before came upon Crowley sprawled out on a blanket next to a small campfire. The day had a bit of a chill on it and the cold blooded demon was already considering returning home, angel or no. 

"Oi!" Called Lister as he approached. "What's this then? Should I brought some marshmallows?" 

"Trying to keep warm in this bloody wind." Crowley answered moving a scabbarded sword aside so Lister could sit down on the blanket. 

Lister noticed the air around the blanket was much warmer. He sat back, watching the last of the autumn leaves rustle in their trees. He wondered idly if cats did Halloween. That's what he could do, make his party a costume party. Would be perfect for a bunch of witches. Then he noticed the sword. "Hang on, is that thing real?" 

"Course it is, bit stupid to practice with wood, doesn't weigh the same." Crowley assumed Rimmer had at least mentioned the sword fighting, why wouldn't he? Seemed like just the sort of thing Rimmer would brag about. Then again, maybe not. The hologram seemed reluctant to go showing off his wings, after all. Oooo, this afternoon was about to get interesting. "Zira's a better teacher than me." He offered, hoping the human would get the hint.

"Teacher… you mean Rimmer? Fighting with a sword? But you gave me the sword."

"Not flaming, just a regular one. Suppose you could learn, but I don't know, Aziraphale would have something to say about it. Wouldn't want you getting hurt."

"But it's fine for Rimmer to?"

"Pshaw, Dave, you know he's like some sort of Superman with that hard light. Can't even cut his clothes. Just bounced off. He nicked my shoulder the other day. Even with the dull sword. He isn't as skilled as my husband but he's got his own advantages. Zira's taken to wearing his armour."

"Rimmer… fighting with a sword." He shook his head. The mental image was that of musketeers and swashbuckler pirates. He couldn't help but smile to himself. He stood back up and began scanning the area. If Arnold was fighting an armour clad Aziraphale he wanted to see it. "Where are they?"

Crowley stuck a long finger up pointing skyward. 

There in the distant afternoon sky, against a backdrop of grey and white clouds, Lister could make out two figures, one blue, one gold. 

"Lay down, 's easier to watch that way."

Lister followed the demon's instructions, still dumbstruck from what he was seeing. The figures separated, circling one another, before coming back together in their mock combat. White wings held the angel aloft, coming in right to his body when he dived, blue followed. Finally, after a moment of processing Lister said, his breath catching, "are those… does he have… angel wings?"

Crowley laughed a little. "Yep, Zira's idea. He said if he was going to go throwing himself about the sky he may as well be able to control it."

"But how?"

"They're mine. Well, a little bigger actually. Bentley did it with some sort of scanner. Funny, huh. We used to laugh at those cartoons where when the rabbit or whatever died they'd get wings, now look. I think he's the first dead man to actually accomplish it. Wonder if he'd get pissy if I miracled him a harp."

"Probably. They're…"

"Bloody beautiful. I think Bentley added more than wingspan. Some of his primaries have that holographic sparkle when it's sunny, like that H he wears. He can turn 'em red too. Lucky bastard. Can't change mine."

"Why didn't he tell me?"

"Think there's a lot you two don't tell each other."

"Touche."

"You're not immortal, you know."

"Don't remind me."

Rimmer didn't notice the second leather clad form on laying on the tartan blanket until it was too late. He almost crashed with the realization. Somehow he managed to make a somewhat shaky landing digging his heels into the turf and fluttering his wings to stay upright. He cursed himself. He probably looked like a great chicken trying to scare off a toddler.

Lister, however, saw something else entirely. Rimmer landing before him, looking not every bit like an angel, Aziraphale had that look down pat, but like something else, something better. His hair was wind blown and stood up in different directions, a wave hooking around the H on his head. Crowley was right, he was bloody beautiful. He wondered if the shining blue feathers were as soft as they looked. No wonder his shoulder and chest seemed larger, the blue feathered appendages were huge, they could wrap completely around him. He liked the thought of that. 

Rimmer stood there, expecting… anything. Anything besides that goofy grin plastered across Lister's face. What was that? Of course, he looked ridiculous. What had he been thinking? 

"Rimmer!" Lister finally said, still grinning, "look at ya, man!" Not his most eloquent response, but what do you say when your best mate sprouts wings?

"That what you came to do, gawk? Come to look at the freak wannabe angel? Sorry, squire, shows over." The wings vanished, along with the longsword he'd been holding.

"C'mon Rimmer, 'snot like that. I come to invite you to a party. A a send-off for Kryten, just for us and close friends. Gonna be a real rager."

"You came all the way down here for an invite? I really believe that. How'd you even find us. It was that damned Bentley wasn't it? I knew he couldn't be trusted, not with that mustache. You have a good laugh then?"

"What? No! I'm not here for a laugh. I…" I missed you, is what he should have said. "I haven't seen you lately, have I you've been off doing… this." He waved a hand in the hologram's general direction.

"This," Rimmer said, fully defensive now, "is training. Training for what could turn out to be a bloody great war."

Crowley and Aziraphale looked at each other. They'd not thought the hologram had caught on. 

"While you were off playing God and drinking lager, I've been learning to use a sword."

"I haven't been playing at anything. If anything I've been trying to do just the opposite. You'd know that if you weren't avoiding me!" Lister's voice rose. Rimmer seemed to know just where to hit him where it hurts. He wasn't playing God, dammit!

"I'm not avoiding anything," he was and he knew he was. "I'm in training!"

"For what? You don't need to use the sword, Crowley gave it to me!"

Rimmer blinked, confused. "Are you high? It's holographic you dunce. You don't even have one." 

Lister stood there realizing his mistake frantically trying to think of a way to backtrack. "Nothing, whatever, just come to the party."

"Oh, no, m'laddo, you're not worming your way out of this. When did Crowley give you a sword. What is it some sort of demonic weapon?"

"Certainly not!" Aziraphale interjected.

"It's his." Said Lister lamely, "or it was." He pulled the round pin from his jacket, holding it out in his palm. 

"You're mad, it's a trinket."

Aziraphale picked the pin up from the man's outstretched palm. He swung his arm out and the pin transformed in an instant, alive with fire. Both human and hologram gaped at the angel. He still wore his celestial armour. It shown in white and yellow gold, flames reflecting off the shining surface of the breastplate. He looked every bit a soldier of God. "It is not a trinket." He said, returning the sword to its other shape with a snap. "It's a weapon of God, given to man by myself. Now it's his." He pinned it back to Lister's lapel. 

"What? So I do all the work and he gets the flaming sword? Cat! You gave a pin like that to Cat! That fish one, he used it against Famine. Kryten… he's got one now too. You're sending him off for a fight, aren't you! All of you. Lister, Cat, Kryten, and what about me? What do I get?"

Lister's mind was reeling. No, he couldn't. He wouldn't pin Rimmer with Death. He answered the only way he knew how. "Nothing."

"Why am I not surprised?" Said the hologram, anger and hurt taking over his face. He shook his head and took off like a shot into the sky wings bursting out in his take off. Leaving three frowning figure in his wake.

"Well that went down like a lead balloon," said Crowley. 

"Should I go find him?" Asked Aziraphale.

"Nah, he'll come around." Assured Lister, though for the first time ever he doubted it.

There never was a party.


	18. Chapter 18

Getting caught is easy if you're trying. All it took was a little time and the sacrifice of a blue Midget. Kryten and Camille begged for their lives knowing full well where they'd end up. Some would say it was a fate worse than death. Camille would agree, at least from what she'd experienced. Life as a pleasure Gelf on Euracak was a fate she wouldn't wish on anyone. If she or any of her companions died in her second escape attempt, well, they were still better off.

Euracak's slave population wasn't comprised only of the pleasure Gelfs. Take the BEGGS for example, although they were the closest to the Euraca population of Gelfs genetically they made up most of the slave labor on the planet. They were, in fact, the first race to occupy the planet after humans abandoned it. Eating their way into the trash, they made it home. They thrived. That is until Uaggrah's ancestors discovered the planet, ripe for the picking. They had just recently moved from their old world after a series of nuclear meltdowns left it uninhabitable. They took the world in three days, using their superior technology and outright ruthlessness. Who they didn't eat they enslaved. 

Apparently a good deal of time spent as a slave on Euracak was standing single file. Kryten was sure there had to be an easier way to move the trash down the long tunnels of what was to be the next city throughway of Wacacachaurg providence. As it was they stood in a fireman's line passing trash like buckets of water. It was hard work, for Camille that was, but she never complained. A mechanoid didn't get sore muscles, and that's what she was supposed to be. Kryten had tried taking her into taking on a Gelf form but she had refused. Any risk at all of catching the eye of a Gelf clan leader looking for a mate was too much too her. He didn't push the issue, but the mechanoid still worried for her. Pretending to be a mechanoid had other issues as well, food for one. Camille didn't require as much food as a human and nowhere near as much as a cat, but she still needed to eat. Kryten resorted to stealing her tidbits here and there from the trays he was meant to serve during his second daily shift as a service android for Urragrah himself. The gelf headman paid little attention to Kryten, seeing him as barely more than moving furniture. This was fine with him, attention was the last thing he wanted. 

Camille, or CM2L, as she was known as now, had a bad battery pack, or so they said. Really she just needed to sleep at some point. Spending six hours a night with a charging cable shoved in the back of her shorts at least gave her time to get to know other slaves. She had been recognized only once, by another pleasure Gelf, Sistrin. Sistrin had managed to get the word out to her mate, Apo, who was stationed with the general slave population. The fact that she could get a message out at all was astounding. The harems of pleasure Gelfs were kept under tight guard, especially after Camille's escape. She was still being talked about months later. Apo kept her secret well and was proving to be a valued ally. She did not run the black market among the slaves, but she was well liked and managed to always be informed. If something was needed, items or information, they were the person you went to. She and Kryten managed to keep Camille fed and relatively safe.

As strong as Camille was the work of a mechanoid was hard, her body strained to keep up with her mechanical image. They had been hauling trash in a tight tunnel dug through a bank of compressed garbage for over ten hours, her muscles strained and she began to slow. Kryten, who was nearby, attempted to pick up her slack, but it was too late, she had been noticed. The crack of a whip did little to a mech, a fly would be more annoying. Instead she caught the end of a super charged cattle prods to her right shoulder, dropping her like a bag of meat. Kryten ran to her.

"Back in line!" Called the guard.

"Sir, she… she has a bad battery pack. Look.". He picked up her arm, letting it drop back to the floor, a magic induced think accompanied it. Kryten thanked God in his head for the bee not being affected by the electric jolt. "If we leave her here she'll be in the way, holding up production. I can haul her away if you like."

"Then you'll be gone too, leave her."

"Stepping over her adds .37 seconds to each hauler's trip, by the end of the shift you'll have lost hours of work. I don't think that would look very good on your report if you don't mind me saying."

The guard frowned at him, trying to figure out the math in his head. It was no good, he didn't have enough fingers. Still, it seemed off. "That don't sound right." He said.

"Oh, but it is, I did the math myself. My CPU is designed to handle such complicated maths." It was, but that didn't mean the figures he'd given the guard were correct. "Trust me, sir, I wouldn't want you to get in trouble."

"I don't believe that."

"But don't you know, sir? As a mechanoid my programing doesn't allow me to lie."

"Fine, get it out of the way."

"Right away, sir."

Kryten scooped up Camille like she weighed next to nothing. He squeezed past the guard, making eye contact with another series 4000 as he went. The other mech had heard the whole thing, he knew, and he was quiet. None of that mattered right now though, the only thing that mattered was getting Camille to a place where he could be able to wake her, that is, if she was still alive.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry I've taken so long between chapters. To make it up here's a two for one, although the second is a bit short.
> 
> Thanks for hanging in there with me while I mess about writing other things.
> 
> Love to you all.
> 
> Comments welcome (they keep me alive)


	19. Chapter 19

She was breathing. At least there was that, although Camille remained unconscious until they made it back to the holding area to the portion of the floor they called theirs. Kryten laid her down on a piece of cloth that was once a blanket and checked her pulse. It was weak but there. He stared down at her, there wasn't much he could do without proper medical equipment or giving them both away. He found relief in the appearance of Apo and three of her associates. As exhausted as she appeared, the tall Gelf made her way over to them with immediate concern.

"What happened?" She asked in the grunting tongue of the local Gelf population.

"Guard prod, she dropped like a bag of wrenches."

"I need to see the injury, I've seen the effects of those on organic lifeforms, it's not pretty. We should check for burns."

"That would mean showing herself, she won't like that."

"We are alone, my friends won't talk, but I must warn you, the rumors are starting to fly. People speak of her return, bit there's been so many new slaves they're having trouble singling her out. It's just a matter of time."

"Do as you must, her mission won't matter if she's dead." He pressed the buttons on an unseen light bee and her image changed for them all but Kryten. The onlookers gasped but stayed quiet and formed a barrier against prying eyes. The burn was bad, but nothing that they couldn't dress, and Camille shortly began to wake up.

"Wha'appened?" She asked groggily trying to sit up but was overwhelmed by dizziness.

"You received quite a shock."

She looked down at herself and gasped, immediately turning her bee back on. "Are you crazy? What if someone saw? Our plans will be ruined."

"Plans?" Asked Apo.

"We've got to get the others." Camille answered softly.

"It will have to be soon or you will be too weak to lead anyone out of here." Kryten looked around and produced a pouch of water out of a compartment in his right thigh, putting the spout in the prone gelf's mouth. "Drink, you need to hydrate."

"Out? Like all of us?" Asked Apo, wide eyed. One of her friends looked over their shoulder, their eyes full of questions and hope.

"As many as we can, but everyone is so isolated. The pleasure Gelfs are under tight scrutiny. The BEGGS as you well know, are becoming restless and the guards have been doubled in the last week. Quite frankly I'm surprised you're able to get yourself into the mech block."

"I have my ways," said Apo, but didn't elaborate. She held up her hand and one of her associates pulled a package out from under her ample, fur covered breast. She gave it to Camille. "Eat this, you're too thin. I'll take care of the BEGGS, you recruit the mechs, I'd suggest a cell system. I'll see what I can learn about the harems, it would be best for you two to stay clear of the whole compound. I'm trusting you on this, I don't know why, but I am."

"It's called faith, my dear, and I promise you that your… no, OUR people will be freed."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Very short chapter, but I have to say the wheels are turning now and I'm getting excited about this part now. I know what I want to do, just got to get there.
> 
> Find me on Tumblr as thewronglong
> 
> Love to you all.


	20. Chapter 20

Pollution was bored. This was no surprise to them, in the three million plus years they'd been alive a good deal of them was spent doing or, in some cases, being nothing. They hadn't been nothing in quite a while though, not since the repopulation of the planet on which they sat. It was a beautiful orb, wrapped in layers upon layers of trash compacted so tightly that it's occupants dug into it like miners searching for coal. Coal, what a lovely substance. They produced a chunk out of thin air and crushed it between their palms, breathing in the dust as if they were a cook smelling the spicy scent of a freshly baked apple pie. They were considering producing a pile of the stuff to roll about in like a chinchilla in fine sand when they were interrupted by one of those Gelf creatures. 

Pollution wasn't thrilled with the interruption, bit said nothing, choosing instead to stare at the creation until it left or spoke out of sheer frustration. This one was called something that reminded Pollution of the sounds a baby seal made when strangled with a nice bit of discarded netting. They were sure if it was spelled out it would be just a series of consonants that would put the Russians to shame. 

The creature was speaking now. Something about a slave rebellion. Good for them, they thought. As an agent of chaos rebellions were a welcome distraction, besides, slavery was never a system that held. They wondered what had taken them so long. Perhaps some of those trash eaters would be destroyed in the process. Pesky things, eating up all the beautiful garbage. Then there were those cleaning robots, puttering about as if they could keep up with their powerful will. Hmm… the more they thought about it the more something felt off about this little rebellion. Something was different, something was HERE. 

They looked out a window in their tower of trash, watching the steam rise from the power plant that sat off in the distance. They smiled, black vicious tears forming at the corner of their eyes. With the wave of a hand the plant exploded. It made them feel a bit better, but the feeling niggling at the center of their being was still there. 

Pollution walked from the room, ignoring the gelf which was babbling hysterically about the explosion. They had other things to do.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a little introduction to pollution. 
> 
> Hang on, shit's about to get real.


	21. Chapter 21

It was decided, with much protest on the part of Camille, that she was to not return to duty. CM2L was officially dead, her battery fried by a careless guard. Her price came out of his pay. Camille, on the other hand, was alive and as well as anyone who had to be invisible all of the time could be, aside from a nasty burn. She had to admit though that she was better off. If she moved quietly, a skill that she perfected her first escape, she could go anywhere in the compound. Managing to be able to whisper in ears unseen was really a boon for her cause.

Meanwhile Kryten was making friends of his own. The mechanoid who had witnessed the "demise" of Camille sought him out that night. His resemblance to Kryten would be uncanny if not for the fact that they were mechanoids of the same series. 

"What you did back there was remarkable." He said, with much of the same mannerisms as Kryten. "The way you…. Err… spoke to the guard I mean."

"Ahh, and you are?"

"Kevin 2X7B 593P"

"2X7B! I'm Kryten 2X4B 523P, we're from the same assembly line, practically brothers!"

"Really? Small universe. You must tell me, though, how you did it."

"Did what?" 

"Lie to that guard."

"Oh that! A very close friend of mine taught me to break my program. I can now lie, cheat, and sometimes even conive. Another friend was teaching me to temp, but I'm afraid I haven't got that down yet. It is very difficult when you look like me. Leather pants don't quite have the same effect."

"That's amazing. Do you think… I mean I know you don't know me very well, but seeing as we're brothers and all, could you teach me?"

"Anything for family," he said, putting a plated arm around clunky shoulders. 

"Oh! Thank you!" Replied Kevin with a chipper enthusiasm that didn't seem to fit with the extensive wear and tear of his body. 

Kryten noticed Kevin's his left leg from the knee down was not standard issue, it rightfully belonged on a series 2000. Spare parts were a hot commodity among the mech slaves. He wondered what kind of pull this Kevin had to be able to acquire an entire leg, one that appeared to work too. He'd seen a mech with a bit of steel tubing for a leg still plugging away at its duties. The "death" of Camille had brought on many inquires about her parts. He simply told them that they could have what they could find of her. The inquiries stopped pretty quickly after that. 

"Forgive me if I'm being too forward," asked Kryten, "but have you had that leg long?"

"Oh, that, I hoped you wouldn't notice. I was in a bit of an accident a few months ago. Leg was crushed by an excavator."

"You you must have paid dearly for that leg, I've seen what people around here are calling spare parts and it's appalling. How ever did you acquire it?"

Kevin stopped and frowned. "I know we're family but I'm going to refrain from answering that, seeing as how I haven't had my first lesson yet and I don't wish to… elaborate. Out anyone, as it were." He fidgeted, spinning the end of his lose right ring finger.

"I'm not asking for names. I was merely curious."

"Well that's a right then. It was a gift. I normally wouldn't have accepted, but I was desperate, you see."

"Must be a very close friend."

"Sort of. I have a lot of friends. I can be very helpful."

Just what Kryten wanted to hear. "I see." He said simply. 

"I'm sorry…. I mean about your friend. Camille was nice."

Kryten jerked his arm off the other mech, "wh-what?"

"CM2L? I mean, come on, isn't it obvious. I guess not to the Gelfs, but to other 4000s. Though the loose nose was a nice touch. Too bad, we were really rooting for her, even if it was all in vain. Bloody stupid coming back, if you ask me."

"Nobody asked you." Came a disembodied feminine voice from behind his right ear. 

Kevin stumbled forward, Kryten catching him before he drew too much attention. "Come along, brother," Kryten said, steering him off to a more private area, "we have much to discuss… and lesson to begin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think Kevin is going to be my favorite OC of this part. 
> 
> I've got most of this part of the series ready in my head, I just have to get it out, so that means more updates coming soon. That being said, I'm going to add a new tag "major character death" in the works. Fair warning.


	22. Chapter 22

They weren't ready, but sometimes an opportunity presents itself that you just can't ignore. This opportunity didn't so much present itself as it exploded outward in a rain of graphite and radiation. Fortunately the wind was in their favor and the majority of the slave population was relatively safe, for now. They knew that once the initial mayhem of the disaster wore off that they would be the ones to have to clean it up. Well, those like Apo, at least.

Sistrin was aware of the budding rebellion, having first heard through the grapevine of servants and slaves that bridged the gap between herself and her mate Apo, and then from the ghostlike whispers of Camille in the night. She watched the but structure in the distance. The fire was spreading, thick black smoke covering the distant sky. Pulling a chair up to the window she began to wonder which would be worse, death by radiation poisoning or the slow procession of time that would pass as her soul wore down by each master.

If she had never tasted freedom at Hector's colony then perhaps it wouldn't be so bad. She'd never realized, never known the concept of rape, never realized what true love could feel like. Never would have felt Apo take her into her arms and comfort her in all that soft sandy colored fur. But now she knew, and so did the others. Even the pleasure Gelfs that had never had their freedom heard their stories and ached for a life of choosing their own destinies, of being what they wanted to be, not just the image of some others desires. 

She sat, watching, waiting, her makeshift blade close at hand. Today would be the day. It was just a matter of time. 

Urragrah burst into the room, followed by a bevy of guards, each staring at her with a different set of desires. "Fools!" He yelled, "don't look at it!" He grabbed her arm and threw her at the group. "Take her to the cages. And if any of you touch her, or, let your stupidity take over and make you think she's in love with you, you will be right there with the rest of the slaves clearing up the meltdown."

The guards grunted their acquiescence and she found herself being hauled away. Something must be happening, she thought, her kind were usually not handled so roughly, especially at the command of their own masters. Of course that was before Camille. 

Two guards vanished before she noticed. The before the other guards caught on. By then they were surrounded and Apo was there. When she found her arms again she knew it didn't matter if they survived their run for freedom, as long as they never went back.

The cat salvage ship sat cloaked, orbiting the Gelf planet. They had been there for two days, waiting for the word from Kryten with coridants on where to land. Holly, now having a direct link with the mechanoid, completed the link to the cat ship with the help of Bentley and some demonic intervention. They had considered taking the Dwarf, but it was too big to maneuver in a hurry and Starbug wouldn't hold all of the refugees. The salvage ship was perfect, so long as they avoided a direct confrontation. 

The Cat, for the first time in decades, found himself in the co-pilot's chair, begrudgingly taking directions from The Silver Pilot. The Silver Pilot probably wasn't always silver, but his age and soft grey coloring made the name quite fitting. He'd been piloting the salvage ship for over forty years and he'd be damned if he let some Abandoned whipper snapper take over his ship, no matter how famous. He did have to admit the kit had talent, along with uncounted hours of flight time. He wondered what the kit could do in a Stinger, one of the tiny one-cat battle pods. 

In the sleeping quarters of the ship Crowley, Rimmer, Aziraphale, and Lister were in the middle of a card game when both Crowley and Aziraphale looked up suddenly. 

"What is it?" Asked Lister, knowing from the look on the angel's face that it couldn't be anything good. 

"A disaster." He whispered.

"Pollution," elaborated Crowley.

"Smeg! We've gotta get down there!" Cried Lister, throwing down his cards. 

"There's nothing we can do. You heard Kryten, he said to wait for his signal." Argued Rimmer. He'd been reluctant to even come along on this escapade in the first place, but the idea of being left out outweighed the potential danger. It had taken a week of sulking for him to even come back around the others. Unfortunately he didn't have anywhere else to go. Lister had insisted that he thought his wings were actually really cool, and as convincing as he'd been that didn't change the fact that he'd been apparently left out of something big. The nagging feeling he felt that this something big was also incredibly dangerous was the only reason he hadn't brought it up again. 

"Nothing we can do? There's a lot we can do, we can HELP for one thing."

"If we go down there now we'll be spotted. If this ship gets destroyed we will be very well screwed, not to mention all of Kryten's refugees."

"I'm afraid he does have a point." Aziraphale agreed. "Our best option is to wait for the signal."

"If worst comes to worst Camille has a bee that can summon me." Crowley assured Lister.

Before Lister could argue Cat came on the comm informing them of the power plant explosion. 

"Now we've got to get down there, the radiation will try his diodes!" Lister insisted.

"That's what Kryten needs right now," mused Rimmer, who found himself more afraid for the mechanoid than he was willing to let on, "you out there trying to relive Chernobyl's greatest hits."

"But .."

"He's fine for now," the angel said, "lending the human some much needed calming energy, "I've shifted the wind, the radiation will go to the south, not the city."

Lister plunked back down into his chair, slightly more relaxed, but still worried.

"'s alright," Crowley said, looking through a nearby porthole, "it won't be long now."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Second warning... Tags have changed.
> 
> Forgive me, Cloister, for what I'm about to do.


	23. Chapter 23

They could feel it, and it was theirs. Pollution strode past running civilians and through flanks of panicked guards. No one paid them any attention, it was how they wanted it. This was a hunt, after all. From the looks of things, the soldiers who ran past them were headed in the same direction. It was a hazardous journey, well, for most. The potential of the wind shifting and filling the air with deadly radiation was sending many into the deep tunnels that snaked their way through the compacted trash that made up the anthill-like city. Others poured out of the holes with the smoke of the spreading underground fires at their heels. Many tunnels were becoming clogged with the bodies of those coming from opposite directions, running from one death to another. Pollution stuck to the craggy, smog covered surface. 

The exodus of the local slaves seemed to be moving away in the same direction as their quarry, Pollution could just make out their shadows in the distance. The one with their crown must be among them. The slaves had fought hard to reach the surface and they were on the home stretch. 

Against the distant fiery backdrop a ship was landing, they could sense a familiar aura from that vessel, two actually. The knowledge of what had happened to Famine passed through their mind. The rebellious couple had been involved there as well. Pollution was not surprised at the turn of events on Fushal. Famine had been asking for it, playing around with cats of all people, sneaky things, but Aziraphale and Crowley's involvement was unexpected. Pollution found the discorporation of their brother annoying, but War was pissed… and on their way across a vast expanse of stars, her eyes burning for revenge. The fact that their brother had lost his mind was besides the point. She and Famine had been close, and War was taking the turn of events personally. Pollution themselves was only after one thing at the moment, their property, but, if the chance to avenge their brother came up, why not? 

Camille squinted in the darkness, just making out the hulking ship in the distance. The sun had set behind them and the only lights were those the occasional civilian lantern or the orange glow of the distant horizon. The terrain was harsh and footing was unstable. The group had lost surprisingly few. The tunnels made for good cover against ambush; the surface, however, was another story. Not only did they have to look out for the tail of guards that was inevitably forming as they ran, they had to worry about falling. As the fire spread underfoot sinkholes began to appear. Cammile was beginning to worry about how they'd reach the ship.

The group had grown beyond the slaves and servants. Now, in the throws of mayhem, the group was beginning to be seen as a way out. They had a destination that didn't promise a hellish death for one thing. Small families of Gelfs would fall into step alongside BEGGS and mechanoids, sometimes with only a nod of acknowledgment. The pleasure Gelfs, aside from Camille, formed a tight knot in the middle of the party surrounded and protected by Apo and her mixed group of friends. Mechanoid were outside of their ring, hoping their metal bodies would provide protection for the armorless. Many of the group had a weapon of some sort, some from careful planning and others from chance and assassinated guards. Camille had a laser pistol, Kryten a makeshift spear which was really just the broken handle of a mop. He'd used it twice already. He decided to save feeling guilty about that for later.

"They're making good time, won't be long now, might want to break out the cheese plates and platters with little bits of broccoli and carrots, maybe the ones with the little tomatoes that nobody eats." Said Holly. He was just integrated enough with the cat system to be able to pop up on screen and give updates. "There is a group of pursuers forming miles back, but if they keep this pace they'll be fine. Oh, yeah, Kryten says there's going to be more than he estimated. We're taking on at least twice as many, growing all the time. Hope you all like each other, because it's going to be like a tin of sardines in here."

"Smeg," sighed Lister, rubbing his temples. "They can fit, right? I mean the hold could hold them?"

"It won't be comfortable," said The Pilot, "it's designed to collect garbage, not people. They'll have air, but that's about it until we can land somewhere. I'd say put em in the docking bay but we may have to deploy the Stingers if we're pursued."

"I can do a little adjusting to make it more suitable, it shouldn't be a problem," assured Aziraphale, "I should be down there waiting for them in case anyone needs assistance."

"I'll have to open the scoop. Never done that planetside." 

"We got this, bud." Said cat, clapping The Pilot on his silver brocade suit's shoulder, causing the older cat to grimace. "You're flying the boys from the Dwarf now." The Pilot didn't look overly impressed.

"What's that?" Asked Rimmer pointing through the viewport into the dark sky.

"What?" Asked Lister.

"There's something out there."

The Cat took a deep breath through his mask. "I don't smell nuthin' but trash, goalpost head, you sure?"

"Am I sure? I have you know I can see as well as you can smell. There is definitely something coming this way."

"I'm catching a whiff of something," said the older cat, "it's like… burning tar or something… No, it's like the smell of this garbage heap concentrated in one spot."

"I'm getting it now," agreed The Cat. "It's like…" he gagged, pulling the mask from his face, The Pilot following suit. 

"What is it?" Asked Lister.

"I believe the question should be who, not what." Answered Aziraphale, wringing his hands.

"It's them isn't it?" Lister's eyes were wide with fear. 

Rimmer frowned at the display. Lister was a lot of things but a coward he was not. "Who?" He asked, squinting and making out a pale silhouette against the night sky.

Crowley unclenched his jaw to utter one name: "Pollution."

It was then that the ground surrounding the ship began to crumble away.


	24. Chapter 24

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You have been warned.

Kryten and Camille were leading the way, walking close to one another, a few yards ahead of the rest of the group. They didn't notice when Pollution landed lightly behind them, they were too busy backing away from the ground that was falling away at their feet. They watched in horror as the crevice grew, trash falling away into nothingness, a great cavern now surrounding their ship, their hope at survival. The party has slowed greatly as weariness and new arrivals had weighed them down. In the distance the searchlights of their pursuers could be seen. If they were caught they were dead, or worse. Kryten was cursing his luck when he heard a soft voice behind him.

"You have something of mine."

Kryten spun around, his recognition of the situation immediate, the odor and black sludge that accompanied the entity left him with little doubt, but "Ahh, hello there," was all he could think to say. 

"Is that-" whispered Camille, but he waved her off stepping forward.

"The crown," they said in a calm that showed no signs of the realization that the world was burning around them and pointed to the octagonal pin welded to Kryten's breastplate, "is mine. Give it to me."

"I'm afraid I can't do that. I see the damage you can do without it, with it, well, I just can't let that happen."

Pollution smiled softly, breathing in the smoky air, and walked over to the edge of the precifice. "It is quite beautiful, isn't it?" They didn't wait for an answer. The edge of the canyon was not a straight drop, large chunks of metal and long abandoned salvage equipment jutted from the edge. The end of a crane stuck out near the edge, making a bridge to nothing, still hanging from it from a cable was half of what the long dead human inhabitants of the planet used as cars. Below that was just the thing she was looking for.

"You're sick!" Yelled Camille, getting right up into Pollution's face. "This place lost any semblance of beauty ages ago, there's only death here!" The entity just waved her hand, sending the gelf flying back onto her rear.

Camille looked over to the group of onlookers, Apo and Sistrin, as well as others banged on an invisible barrier. Looking back to Kryten she noticed the ship in the distance open up, two winged figures emerging. 

Pollution saw them too. "Give me what is mine, robot, or I will simply have to take it." Not leaving time for an answer they reached out, using their power to pull him close, the mop handle dropping to the ground like a stick ball bat after a base hit. They grabbed the pin, fingers digging into metal like paper mache. 

Camille attempted to fire her pistol at the entity, but it flew from her fingers making a wide arc in the air before disappearing into the canyon. 

Pulling the fistful of Kryten's metal flesh and the pin away, Pollution held the mechanoid out at arm's length. They glanced up to see the angel and demon closing the distance. They were too late. 

Kryten's feet dangled as he was held out over the precifice, "It's just a fall," he thought, "I've survived worse," then he hears a noise below him. It was a crunching, grinding noise, metal on metal. Pollution looked down his eyes following. "Oh, Smeg," he swore, then was dropped.

"NO!" Screamed Camille, grabbing up the mop handle,   
and just as Pollution tuned, she shoved the pointed end into their gut. The entity's eyes went wide and their hands wrapped around the shaft, dropping the broken remnants of a crown as they dissipated into a puff of black smoke.

Camille didn't notice, she lay on the edge, reaching down, as if she could bridge the distance between her and her love with her arm.

Kryten's right leg was gone now, eaten by the hydraulic shredder, his other foot struggling to find purchase as he sang into its gnashing metal teeth. The left foot slipped and his other leg joined the first. 

The storage in his thigh was breached, and the little jar in which he stores his nanites popped, releasing them. He could feel them struggling to rebuild him as his lower half was torn apart. He reached down, drawing them to his finger tip as he looked up to the edge of the cliff at the horrified faces watching his demise, he gave his nanites one final instruction. "Build them a bridge."

Crowley was there, the mechanoid below him, eaten up to his chest, one arm reaching up, the other gone. The demon snapped his fingers and the machine lurched to a stop, the momentum of the bladed wheels giving one final crunch as it tore into the motherboard nestled deep within Kryten's chest. 

They all watched in horror as Kryten 2X4B 523P lost all function.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This made me sad to write. I do love Kryten, he's so pure.


	25. Chapter 25

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All aboard the angst train! Toot toot !

Lister cheered as he watched the land bridge begin to form and rush its way to the cat salvage ship. They must have been successful. He couldn't see what happened, but somehow knew that Pollution was dead, well, discorporated, whatever. The refugees would be boarding soon and they could all return to Red Dwarf. He smiled to himself as a bright white light shone from the sky over the bridge. The angel was lighting their way. He didn't see when Crowley pulled something from the edge of the cliff, flew straight up and vanished.

He had missed Kryten over the past couple of months more than he'd expected. Kryten's presence had become a given in his life, the mechanoid was a friend, and ally, and let's face it, a caretaker. Cat had always disappeared for days at a time, and Rimmer had been absent during his time as Ace, even Holly and Red Dwarf had been missing at one point. Kryten had always been there, making his dinner, washing his clothes, and discussing the latest drama on Androids, a show that Lister never thought he'd ever watch, let alone like.

Lister was surprised when Aziraphale and Crowley popped into the cockpit as the craft was taking off, almost falling out of the chair he'd been leaning back in. "Smeg, guys, you should warn a bloke before popping up like that, bout gave me a heart attack! Everyone on, then?"

The smile the scouser wore began to falter as he saw the look on the celestials' faces. He stood up. "Where's Kryten, then? Downstairs with Camille? I'll go get him and we can celebrate."

"Umm, well, you see…" began Aziraphale, his voice breaking, eyes sparkling with tears that he knew would fall if he blinked.

"What?" He glanced over to the screen that Holly had commandeered, the face on the screen looked away. Lister's voice was small as he asked the question he knew he didn't want the answer to. "Where's Kryten?"

"I… brought him back to Red Dwarf. I thought it would be better.." Crowley stated, trying not to lose himself to emotion. He wasn't particularly close to the mechanoid, but still. He never handled it well when a friend eventually succumbed to their mortality. 

Cat, who had been in the middle of take-off, turned around in his chair, pulling his mask off and leaving it hanging, forgotten, from the console. "What are you saying, snake bro?" 

Crowley couldn't talk, the words lodged in his throat.

Rimmer, who had been attempting to look busy reading a magazine in the corner, dropped the guise. A soft "no" escaping his lips.

"He's… he's…" stammered Lister, not wanting to make the words real by speaking them, he chose denial instead. "He can't, he's a mechanoid. It would take his motherboard being destroyed. I've fixed him before, just got to put him back together and.." 

Crowley shook his head.

"You don't know that! You just gonna give up? Let him die then not even want to attempt to bring him back?"

Crowley looked away and considered turning into a snake and slithering away. He had been too slow. He should have stopped time. He should have flown faster, he should have done something! 

"I don't think," Aziraphale said in his best attempt at a comforting tone, "that you realize the extent of the damage. He's… he's not with us anymore."

"Not with us? Us? There's no us! 'Us' was me, him, Cat and Rimmer. The Boyz from the Dwarf! Now our family is… ever since we met you.. we.. SMEG!" Lister drew back his fist, turning and slamming it into the bulkhead. The force of the punch left an imprint of four knuckles in the metal, topped by small diamond patterns from the studs on his leather gloves.

The explosion of pain in his fist was almost enough to drown out the ache in his chest, almost. Lister cradled his broken hand, falling to his knees and curling his body around the injured limb, not registering the sound of blood dripping onto the floor or the tears streaming down his face. It wasn't supposed to happen like this, it was supposed to be him that went first.

"Oh, dear, you're hurt, let me see." But when Aziraphale stepped forward to heal the hand Lister drew away, turning into the wall and sobbing.

Crowley stalked slowly over to Rimmer. The hologram was in shock his eyes wide and mouth open. Tears hadn't come, only by Rimmer's willing to not let himself feel this yet. The demon leaned down into the hologram's space and whispered, "you're up, squire."

"Hmmm?" Rimmer blinked and looked confused. 

Crowley's only reaction was to nod toward Lister as if to say 'go comfort your boy'. 

"Oh…" Rimmer eased his way toward Lister, crouching down beside him. "Listy?" He asked. The scouser shook his head and looked away. "Listy, come on, let us see your hand so Aziraphale can fix it."

A muffled "no" was the reply.

"Please, it has to hurt, let him take the pain away." Rimmer put his arm over Lister's back.

Lister leaned over toward him, his head pressing into Rimmer's chest, blood dripping on blue boots. "I need it," he whispered, "I deserve it. Should have been there with him."

"No, then you'd done something to get yourself- It's not your fault. You couldn't have known, none of us could have. Letting that hand stay that way is pointless. What would Kryten say?"

Lister lifted his head and looked up at him with large dark eyes, wet and red rimmed. The hologram realized that they were close enough to kiss. He licked his lips and spoke softly. "Come on, let's get that fixed, okay? Then we can form a plan?"

Lister nodded and held out the bent and broken hand. It was fixed with a quick wave from the angel. "Rimmer?" He asked.

"Yeah?"

"Can we go home?"


	26. Chapter 26

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You may have noticed that I've added some new characters into the mix. Get used to that, we're getting close to the end game and part four of this series.

He went into the light. He didn't want to, but he really didn't have a choice. Kryten just hoped that his nanites had done their job and Camille and the others made it to the ship. He also hoped that Lister wouldn't be too disappointed that he wouldn't be there for Marsala Mondays anymore, or Tikka Tuesday for that matter. Smeg, he still had to steam and brush Bob's Stetson, he should have done it before he left. Never mind, not much he could do about it now. 

Gabriel barely looked up when Uriel slipped through the door of his office. "Sandalphon says the mechanoid is here. He's still in orientation so we have time if you want to change your mind."

"Why in heaven would I want to do that? It's a perfect plan."

"Yes, but…"

"But what?" The archangel stood. "We're this close to our war!" He held up almost pinched fingers a little too close to the other angel's face. "Finally, after three million years those fucking humans will be… over, and we can have our victory."

Uriel just nodded. She wondered if he realized that this war would put him against Beelzebub once and for all, no more throwing nameless regiments of low ranking angels and demons at each other for fun, but a fully us vs them out and out war. 

Heaven and hell had fallen into a loop. Hell would lead a small attack and heaven would retaliate. Back and forth, over and over, for millions of years. It was enough to drive one mad. In the beginning they'd had a plan, a wonderful plan, a Great Plan, then the Apocalypse didn't happen, then it didn't happen again. Nothing happened. Well, not with them at least. Humans kept being born and dying, souls collected until both heaven and hell didn't really care anymore where they went, as long as they didn't have to do so many bloody orientations anymore. Finally after a million years or more they started to taper off, but by then the freaking silicon bible had been put into circulation.

Apparently someone somewhere decided home appliances was their new business. Calculators and irons, mechanoids and androids, and annoying fucking toasters began to fill their space. Hell laughed until they started getting toasters of their own. They were forced to create another add-on to their celestial home: silicon heaven. It wasn't too different from the place they put the humans, but much more tolerable, considering most had rather simple demand. Humans were always the needy ones, wanting you to track down their relatives for them and wondering why there's no buffet. Find your own family, you have eternity to look for them. 

Silicon heaven was simple to deal with in comparison and Sandalphon had taken over its running almost immediately. He rather liked the electronics, they didn't get hung up on things like asking too many questions or, God forbid, sex. 

Angels, for the most part, tend to be asexual, but few were activity against the act the way Sandalphon seemed to be. His greatest accomplishment, Sodom and Gamorrah, had been just the beginning of his campaign against this simple act of human pleasure. Just because humans had to do it to create more humans, and thus soldiers for heaven, it didn't mean they should enjoy it. Even other angels sometimes wondered what his obsessions with the human act was about. Sure, he had his arguments, but most of the time they tried their best to avoid the topic around him all together, less they be forced to sit through a very awkward rant. 

Sandalphon had another reason to feel a connection to the electronic souls, he was now, in a way, a cyborg. A good portion of his left side had been lost to hellfire. His face, neck, arm and wing had been burned so severely that many angels would have succumbed to their injuries. The fact that Michael had doused him with holy water mere seconds after a nameless demon's attack was the only thing that kept him in existence. Others would have given up, let the hellfire finish its job, but Sandalphon had fought for his life, and with the help of an Android named Hudson, rebuilt his lost limbs. As disturbingly beautiful the shining gold robotics were, the other angels accepted the change with a grain, or considering who we're talking about, a pillar of salt. Really, it was an appropriate change, considering his new job. 

Kryten walked into his corner of heaven with the same dazed look on his face that every other new arrival wore. There's nothing like a good orientation to suck the joy out of a thing, even heaven itself, especially heaven itself. 

He was surprised to not see any familiar faces, or blinking lights, or whatever any of his friends who have passed had once displayed. He really wanted to say hi to his old iron, Gladys, they had been great friends when he was on the Nova 5, come to think of it his only friend for many years. He was about to start asking around for her when a drone flew up to him, paper held in it's single metal claw. He thanked the thing and it just huffed and buzzed away in a way that spoke of its annoyance of the task. Such work should have been done for them when they died. Now it was serving angels instead of humans. 

The paper was a summons, and from the inscriptions on the page, a very important one. He'd heard a few stories about a couple of the names on the page and given the nature of his recent death he was less than thrilled to be called out already. Still, with a little help from a friendly calculator, he made his way down the vast clean hall to the oversized door of Gabriel's office.The door opened as Kryten raised his fist to knock. He frowned at cliche, but shuffled into the room. 

A tall man… no angel, with a chiseled jaw and a grey suit strode across the room to meet him in a strong handshake that was reminiscent of the kind one would get from a cousin's pastor when visiting a church on Easter Sunday. "Krypton!" He smiled, showing straight white teeth, Welcome!"

"I'm sorry?"

"Kryten," corrected the odd, golden, cyborg that had lurched up beside him.

"Ahh, yes, sorry, Kryten." Gabriel turned to Sandalphon, "who is Krypton then?"

"Batman's butler, I believe."

"Well, doesn't matter either way," waved Gabriel, "Yes, Kryten. Hello, I am the archangel Gabriel."

"I see." Came Kryten's answer, less than impressed, but outwardly friendly. "May I ask why you and…"

"Sandalphon," offered the names owner with an off-putting grin that was supposed to be friendly.

"Sandalphon here, would want to see such a lowly mechanoid such as myself?"

"How do you like it here?" Asked Gabriel.

"Well, I have just arrived, but it seems very clean." He didn't elaborate on how uncomfortable it made him feel to have not a speck ti dust or smudge to clean.

"Thank you, it is nice isn't it?" Gabriel obviously didn't expect an answer.

"We try," added Sandalphon.

"Indeed." Kryten was unsure where all of this was going. So he just waited.

"I expect that you would like to come back here someday."

"I'm sorry, sir, but I don't understand."

"You see Kryten, you have made quite a mess of things down there, and I'm afraid you're going to have to go back and fix it."

"A mess? I helped free slaves, and hopefully saved many lives."

"At the cost of how many more? Don't get me wrong, we do love a good exodus up here, but you gave instigated a war. The Gelfs are planning their attack on that little cat planet as we speak. Many will die, and it will have been your fault."

"Oh dear."

"Oh yes, this war, could be prevented."

"How?"

"We have an army of willing angels ready to enter into the plane of the living ready to fight. They could prevent a Gelf/cat war. That is if a number great enough were able to enter the living plane of humans. Unfortunately they can't, but you could fix that easily, it's why we will approve your resurrection, the paperwork is all ready, all we need is you to do one little thing for us while you're there. You do this our armies can come and the war you started will be over before it even begins, what do you say?"

"What do I have to do?"

"Kill David Lister."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know why I wanted Sandalphon to look like a terminator but golden, I just thought it'd be creepy I guess.


	27. Chapter 27

David Lister and Arnold Rimmer were alone. Aziraphale had transported them to Red Dwarf soon after healing the scouser's broken fist. The angel awkwardly took his leave immediately leaving the two alone on the vast ship save for Holly, who had said only a few words before signing off on all nearby screens. He was around, yes, but for the first time in what seemed like forever they were alone. Together.

"Look, Listy, see we're home. Safe and-" Rimmer cut himself off, realizing his words. "How bout a beer, huh?" Lister just stood there, staring off into nothing. 

Comforting was not one of Rimmer's strong suits, not that there were many, but he had to do something. It was his job. How the job of taking care of the mental well-being of one David Lister had fallen on him he wasn't sure. Everyone had seemed to agree on it, even Lister himself in a way. Was it because he was a member of his crew? The Cat had been there, and surprisingly seemed as hurt by the loss as Rimmer was himself. The feline seemed content to let the two return to the Red Dwarf alone to mourn as they saw fit. Who on Io decided that he was fit? He was barely holding it together himself, but he had to. Lister needed him. He wasn't sure why, or even how, but in that deep part of his mind that he's always tried his best to hide, he was glad. Someone needed him. Not just someone, someone who, if he'd admit it to himself, he needed greatly too.

Rimmer pulled a can from Lister's specially marked beer fridge and tried handing him the can. Lister still stood there looking dazed. Rimmer took a deep breath, "well, Lister, if you're not going to have a drink, then I will."He popped the can in a small spew of foam and took a long draw from it, swallowing about a third of the can in a single go, ending in a long belch. It was disgusting, but at least the man was watching him now instead of nothing in the middle distance. 

When he held out the can again Lister took it but didn't drink. "Kryten's been hiding it, you know."

"Hiding it?"

"Me lager. He thinks… He thought that it was becoming a problem."

"Is it?"

"He likes to worry, liked.. to. All he ever wanted to do was take care of me."

Rimmer frowned and fought the urge to fidget with his tunic. He had to say something here, he thought, as Lister stood watching him, swaying slightly. "I'll take care of you," he offered a little too quickly, looking away as he realized the words coming from his mouth. He could feel the tips of his ears heat with a blush he hoped Lister wouldn't notice.

Lister leaned back a bit in surprise, his eyes were reddened and damp, but they opened a bit wider at Rimmer's unexpected openness. He knew the hologram cared for him, he'd heard about how he'd been by his side during his illness on Fushal. Lister had been so out of it at the time that all he remembered was bits, pieces, and an instant where Rimmer had taken him into his arms before they took off into the sky together. That was just before the stage. He'd watched the vid over and over again in secret, sobbing as he watched Cat flayed and cheering when he broke free. He'd fast forward through his bit, not liking the image of himself flanked by the celestials, power coursing through the three of them, then he'd noticed Rimmer. The first time his breath caught in his throat as he watched the hologram on his knees praying for a life that was not his own. 

Rimmer began to falter, close to backtracking to safer grounds, but Lister spoke before he could. "I know." Was all he said, sitting down on the bed like a man who'd just spent twelve hours at hard labor. "But I doubt you'd be interested in ironing me shorts."

"You realize you're talking to a man who hangs his shorts in his closet."

Lister smiled a little at that. It was small and pained, but it was there.

Rimmer felt as if he was taking a liberty when he sat down beside him, even though they were on his own bunk. He didn't know what to say when Lister reached over and took his hand, he just closed his own hand around black leather and soft fingers, staring ahead, afraid of eye contact and what he'd see there. He could barely breathe when Lister rested his head on his shoulder, let alone speak, so he didn't. They sat there in silence, saying more to one another than they had spoken in over twenty years.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Had to throw some good 'ol Rimmer/Lister at ya there. I hope it begins to heal the wounds from a couple of chapters ago. 
> 
> I could use some help with summaries for this work and it's parts, so if any of you are good at that and want to help let me know. The same with tag suggestions.
> 
> Also, you can find me on discord and Tumblr under thewronglong.


	28. Chapter 28

Bentley didn't look up when the human entered the lab. He wasn't surprised, he'd been expecting him from the time Lister had entered the hanger in which The Bentley resided. He had tracked him through the halls of the ship until he made his way to the door of the lab. If he so desired, Bentley could have tracked the human through the halls if Red Dwarf as well, but Holly didn't seem to like those sorts of invasions. Since he'd extracted himself from the mining ship's systems Holly had been sure to let him know that, although he appreciated the help he had given him, Red Dwarf was his to control. So Bentley pulled himself out and back into the smaller vessel. 

Surprisingly, shrinking back down into himself felt good, like he was more… real. Then he'd begun experimenting with the hard light technology. It was out of necessity at first, but now that he had a body, shrinking his essence once again, he was beginning to feel more like himself than he'd ever thought possible. Still, there was a part of himself that stayed outside the now human looking form, the tendril of power that connected him to the ship. 

It was baffling, even to him, how he could feel the defined edges of his body, his skin, his hair, his clothes, and still be able to feel the footfalls on his floors or a finger running along his hood. He could close his eyes and see through cameras in his halls, feel ducks swimming in Crowley's ponds, read a book left open in Aziraphale's library. 

At the moment he was rebuilding a hand belonging to a mechanoid refugee out of spare parts he'd pulled from one of the crates of parts the salvage savvy Scientist had brought him. 

"You should learn to knock, darling." He said in the direction of the hand.

"Like you didn't already know I was here," replied Lister. 

"This is my personal space. I could have been doing any number of things with this new body of mine."

"Nothin' I haven't seen."

Bentley looked up from his work and smiled cheekily, "Surely, but not in such proportions." 

"You'd be surprised," murmured the human, not looking any brighter for the banter.

Bentley was well aware of Lister's mourning, as well as the angry row he'd had with Camille that morning. Holly had allowed him to glimpse the footage, going on about it like the juiciest of gossip. Bentley, however, saw it as a struggle between two people each trying to deal with the loss of a loved one and disagreeing on how to go about it. "Did you need something? If you want to sulk there's a lovely park three doors down. You can chase ducks with Aziraphale's dog."

"So you heard."

"Everyone heard."

"She wants to bury him."

"Yes."

Lister was expecting an opinion rather than an affirmation. "You think she should?"

"I think everyone mourns differently."

"It's not right. He shouldn't be able to die. Why does everyone just want to write him off so easily. I thought she loved him, but now she wants to throw him away without even trying to fix him."

"From what I understand his motherboard was destroyed. If anyone would know whether his soul had left it would be the angel."

"Still…"

"You want to try."

"I'm going to try, and just let them try to stop me. If he gets buried he's going to be whole."

"Don't you think that's a bit selfish. There are others who could use the parts." Bentley held up the hand he was working on, using its single finger to make his point.

Lister knew it was. He raked his fingers down his face. His puffy eyes were too tired to begin crying again and his mind was as cloudy as his vision. 

"What do your crewmates have to say about it? They're just as much his next to kin as you."

"Cats don't bother much with graves and funerals. They'll bury them, but once the person is dead it isn't them anymore. They may scent the spot or say a few words, but nothing like humans do. The most I've seen is that they'll display their best outfit, that is if they were respected enough for someone not to take it. To Cat, that isn't him lying in the science room, just a pile of metal. And Rimmer…. He said he'll back me up no matter what I choose."

"How sweet of him."

Lister found himself agreeing, still surprised at the hologram's support and, if he let himself believe it, affection. "I do think he believes it's a fool's errand, but he won't say it out loud."

"And I suppose you are here to enlist me as a fellow fool?"

"I can do a lot of it myself, I've rebuilt him before, but there's one thing I just don't have the skills for."

Bentley leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms over a now very human looking chest. "What would that be?"

"Rebuilding the motherboard."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for hanging around guys. I've been on a bit of a block recently, bit i think I'm past it now. Not much left in this part, then the real fun begins.
> 
> I you want, comment and let me know you're still interested in this story.
> 
> Love to you all.


	29. Chapter 29

Bentley was aware of the damage done to the mechanoid, but seeing it was another story. Kryten, or what was left of him, lay atop a gurney. There wasn't a whole lot left. He still had one arm, still reaching up towards the unknown, the shoulder it was attached to, and part of his chest. The left arm was gone, a stump hung with wires and bits of metal from where it had been torn free. The white sheet he lay upon was stained with dried hydraulic fluid which still leaked a bit when he was turned or jostled.

With the remains came a large cardboard box containing all of Kryten's spare parts he could find. In the box it seemed like a lot, but when they laid it all out, the pieces all in their supposed spots, it didn't even cover half of what they needed. Two hands and a useless head still lay in the box along with various vacuum packed chips and diodes.

"Somehow I thought they'd be more," said Lister, leaning back to look at all the hard work for barely half a droid.

"The Scientist has his lab fabricating a lower torso, I guessed that he wouldn't have a spare one of those lying around." Bentley scribbled in a notepad, marking down things he knew the cats would have to make for them. The list was getting disturbingly long. He was beginning to have doubts about the whole thing. They could at least, he decided, give him the appearance of having a body for a funeral's sake. He was lost in thought when he felt a new presence nearby. "Shit!" He exclaimed, reaching for the sheet to cover Kryten.

"Wha- what is it?" 

"Camille is here, and she's not alone."

"Smeg, can't you keep her out?"

"I could, but I won't."

"You're a right bastard, you know that."

"Somebody has to be."

"I've got enough bastards I'm me life right now, don't need another."

"Well they have apparently been slacking off on the job, so I find myself in the unfortunate position of having to tell you some hard truths. I'm distracting her right now, but in a moment Camille is coming here and you are going to have to be civil." 

Lister began to protest, but Bentley cut him off. "I know, I know, he was your mate, but have you considered that maybe she is his soulmate. Think about it man. If this were Earth, in your time, would you have control over your mate's estate, or would his wife?"

"They weren't married."

"Maybe not yet, but can you honestly say that they wouldn't sometime down the road? You can't. You love Kryten, but you weren't the only one… and I hate to break it to you, darling, but it's not always about you."

"You make me seem like some sort of narcissistic git. I don't think it's all about me I just…"

"Blame yourself?" 

Lister looked away. Bentley sighed, "Kryten was his own man, you made sure of that when you helped him break his programming. He knew the risk and took it. Later you and Camille can get together with Crowley and throw yourselves a big fat self blaming pity party, but right now you need each other if you're going to get anything done."

"So, what… I bring him all the way out here and you're going to change your mind if she says no?"

"I thought you were smarter than that."

Before Bentley could elaborate the door to the lab opened and Camille, Kevin, and Apo filed in. 

Camille stopped short, seeing Kryten's sheet covered form on the table. Lister braced himself for her wrath, his arms crossed defensively across his chest. He was surprised when she barely acknowledged him, "can… I see him?" She asked.Lister stepped back, allowing Bentley to slowly slide the sheet back. 

Much of Camille's anger towards Lister was due to the fact that she had not been allowed to see Kryten since the night of his death. He'd kept the grisly sight to himself and, she assumed, to his crewmates. She wasn't even sure if Aziraphale and Crowley had even been granted access, although there really wasn't anything stopping them from seeing him. She'd even considered appealing to them for the right. The only thing that stopped her was that she didn't want to drive an even larger wedge between herself and the human. 

Tears began to flow freely from a face that appeared to not be able to cry. Camille still wore the mechanoid persona, the glamour broadcast to everyone where her heart still lies. She stroked the rubber cheek of the face on the table. Expressive blue eyes were closed, hiding the death in them. "I'm so sorry," she whispered.

Lister reached out, putting a hand on a shoulder that felt a lot softer than it looked. "Me too."

Bentley, Kevin, and Apo stood back quietly as the two embraced, Lister's eyes squeezed shut against both tears and the false illusion he knew he'd see from being so close to the pleasure Gelf. When they broke apart he didn't open his eyes until he had stepped back, both for his sake and hers. 

Camille looked down again at the form on the table. The sheet had been removed enough to show his face, but still covered most. Slowly she peeled back the sheet, observing the laid out parts intended for the reconstruction of her dead partner. "You're really going to go for it, aren't you?" It was a statement as opposed to an accusation. 

"You do realize," asked Kevin, "that he cannot be rebooted without his motherboard or his personality chip in tact?"

Lister nodded at the mechanoid. He'd heard there was one who was making a familial claim with Kryten, but he'd brushed off the idea until just now. He was expecting a resemblance. They were built on an assembly line, after all, but hearing him speak and seeing his face made the claim seem a bit more valid. He had so many questions he wanted to ask him, and Camille, stories of what had actually happened over the past couple of months, but instead he just nodded. Swallowing against his emotions, Lister stated, barely above a whisper, "he deserves to be whole."

"That he does," agreed the hulking Gelf in the corner in broken but understandable English. Apo, as big as she was, managed to be a calming presence. Lister had never met a Gelf, a BEGG in this case, who had such open, caring eyes. "He made us free, whole… this," she pulled a bent a broken piece of silver out from under her breast and set it on the table. "Is his."

Lister gaped at the broken crown. Apparently the pin had returned to its original form at some point. 

"I know just the place for it," Bentley said lightly, picking it up off the sheet. It was slipped away into a drawer that Lister wasn't entirely sure had been there a moment before. 

"I understand now," said Camille, "I'm sorry about before. But it doesn't seem like there's… enough here."

"The cats are making him a new torso, but.. I think I may have to improvise." Lister looked over the parts, worry showing on his brow.

"I'd like to contribute," offered Kevin quickly. 

"Thank you, but I've rebuilt him before, and Bent's going to do the really hard bits-"

Kevin sat down awkwardly in a nearby chair and began fiddling with his knee. "I suppose the other night be easier on you to fit, but he admired this leg once, I think he should have it."

"You can't do that," protested Camille, "you don't have a spare!" 

"I'll improvise. I've done it before. Besides, it's just a leg, he gave us much, much more." 

Lister solemnly accepted the proffered limb. 

It wasn't long after that the group left. Kevin supported between the Gelfs. It was an unspoken understanding. Lister would rebuild Kryten and Camille would bury him.

Hours later when Lister opened the sliding door to the Bentley he was greeted by a pile of parts. Those Kryten had saved had donated a piece of themselves for the one who had given his all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just realized that these have been some Bentley heavy chapters. He's becoming a favorite OC of mine, but don't worry I'm not going to forget about it out other boys.
> 
> I also find it crazy that I the beginning I thought Kryten's part would be very difficult to write, but now he's getting all the feels.
> 
> Any love to all of you that are still with me.


	30. Playlist

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is not a regular chapter, but a break in the story to discuss the music that has inspired it. I've found myself listening to the same songs over and over as inspiration for this work, so I just went ahead and made a playlist. You can find it here:
> 
> https://open.spotify.com/playlist/7I3V1QEiY8yOAJ7Xkc92bc?si=dBZJDiNkRL67dj7JiwjAJA
> 
> Below is a list of the songs and what they mean to me in regards to the story. I hope this interests some of you. I hope to update with a regular chapter in the next few days. I may also edit and add to this list at some point before the work is over.

Flowers on the Wall - The Statler Brothers.   
Lister's theme, reminds me of when he says says he's fine doing nothing… all alone in space, counting flowers on the wall, or in his case, stars in space.

Selling the Drama - Live  
Camille's and Kryten's theme. I binged this writing about her's and Kryten's exodus.

Summer in the City - The Lovin' Spoonful  
Cat's Theme, particularly in regards to the city of Fushal.

Good Old-Fashioned Lover Boy - Queen  
Aziraphale and Crowley's song, of course.

The Great Pretender - Queen  
Ace's theme, more particularly Rimmer's theme from when he was Ace.

Under Pressure - Queen, David Bowie  
Just a good song for the feel of the story.

Seven Seas of Rhye - Queen  
Holly plays this to mess with Lister after the stage scene.

Lighting Crashes - Live  
The theme of the first feline The Cat sees. They actually sing this in the fic.

Princes of the Universe - Queen  
I binge this song whenever I write this fic. It's Bentley's theme, the theme of the fic, and inspiration for part 4.

I'm Going Slightly Mad - Queen  
Holly's theme.

All Over You - Live  
Really, just a good song that I think fits well with the playlist.

Pompeii - Bastille  
I blame a fanvid for this one. Seriously look up the song along with "Red Dwarf" on YouTube.

This Magic Moment - Lou Reed  
My Lister/Rimmer shipping theme. 

(Don't Fear) The Reaper - Blue Oyster Cult  
You can't whack death over the head… but you can kick him in the nuts. Rimmer's theme.

Everybody's Talkin' - Harry Nilsson  
Lister's angsty "I'm not God" Theme

Don't Dream It's Over - Crowded House  
This song is perfect for an impending Apocalypse, also, a slow dance.

I Melt With You - Modern English  
Another Aziraphale/Crowley theme.

For What it's Worth - Buffalo Springfield  
The theme to every war ever. When this song plays, helicopters appear and you swear you smell pot being smoked… even in deep space.

Kashmir - Led Zeppelin  
"Well that went down like a lead balloon" Crowley's theme, especially for the next chapter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Love to you guys. Feel free to comment other songs that you think would fit this fic.


	31. Chapter 31

"My dear, please sit down, you're making me nervous. Why don't you come have a nap?" Aziraphale patted the duvet he sat upon. He was dressed for bed. He slept on occasion, but he didn't find the same sort of comfort in it as his husband. Right now his comfort, and his reading time, was being interrupted by a guilt ridden, stressing demon.

"I can't sleep, not when they're messing about with Kryten's… parts."

"The boy is grieving, if it makes him feel better to rebuild his friend then we must let him."

"'s not like it's going to do him any good. We saw Death himself take him, there's no coming back from that. He doesn't even have all the necessary parts for a full rebuild." 

"They seem to be acquiring them. I must say, the donations are quite touching."

"Bloody stupid if you ask me, giving up a leg just have it burried. Piling parts up outside our home isn't going to do anything but clutter up the place. They'll make a replica of the poor guy and for what. His personality chip is back on that planet. Better to bury that, all they have is a pile of spare parts without it."

"Then go get it."

"Wha?"

"Go get the chip. It would be a quick trip for."

"It's probably buried under a mountain of radioactive rubbish by now."

"Perhaps."

Crowley made a series of frustrated noises, looking for a good reason to protest the angel's logic. Finally, he rubbed his face and snapped his fingers. Aziraphale went back to his book.

…..

Eurakak, in daylight, lived up to its name, something humanity had chewed up and spit out in a retching cough. Crowley himself would be coughing from the fetid atmosphere had he not created himself a bubble of fresh air around himself. The sky was blotched dark with the smoke of a fire that seemed to be burning in an endless smoulder. If the planet had been choking before, now it was on its death throes. 

The inhabitants seemed to agree with the demon's assessment. Erupting in the distance were the rockets of the lucky few who had survived long enough to escape to space. Fleeing to greener pastures, he supposed. He worried for the posessers of those pastures, the cats, whose lush and verdant planet was ripe for the picking. Still, there could be others milling about, hungry and looking for a healthy specimen such as himself to fill their bellies.

Crowley reverted to his snake form as he crossed the land bridge, making his way from the landing site of the rescue ship towards the cliff edge where Kryten met his demise. If he could find the machine that killed him, then perhaps he could find the item he sought. 

The ground below his belly was smooth compared to the surrounding piles of trash. Tufts of grass and weeds were beginning to sprout in the fertile soil, despite the layer of radiation that covered it. Using his will to brush aside the radioactive materials in front of him, Crowley slithered across the highly unlikely and somewhat miraculous soil that Kryten had somehow created.

As he neared his target, Crowley began to feel a presence, living, but not biological, and very, very small. The tiny creatures were approaching, reaching out to him I both curiosity and fear. The demon began to shrink, ready to meet the beings on their own level.

This tiny world, smaller than the head of a pin, was teaming with life. Crowley blocked out the background noise of bacteria and microbes, focusing solely on the being approaching him. As they approached, the nanite began to transform from a metallic blob to a vaguely humanoid form, their face holding a striking similarity to Kryten's. "You are not like the other," they said. Their mouth did not move, but in his head Crowley could hear the high pitched whine of a voice.

"The other?"

"The angry one… with purple eyes."

"Gabriel… you're right, I'm nothing like him."

"Yet you are similar."

Crowley ignored the remark, saving the reply for a rant later that evening. A rant that Aziraphale watched with hidden amusement. "How do you know that asshole?"

"He came to us… cross about the red ship, claiming it is not our place to resurrect humans. He was to destroy our work. Only one survived." The being looked sad at the loss of their hard work. "We have not brought back more, why do you come?"

Crowley filed away the information about the crew of the Red Dwarf, this extended his rant. Aziraphale did not find it amusing. "I'm looking for a piece of Kryten, his personality chip."

A collective gasp filled Crowley's mind, followed by murmuring by surrounding similar entities. He could pick out "the master" "sacrifice" and wails of sorrow from the mix. "You wish us to rebuild him?" Asked the one who spoke for all.

"Well…" it would be easier, he thought, but then he thought about the donations of the refugees and all of Lister's and Bentley's hard work. "He is almost finished, but his motherboard was destroyed."

"The motherboard is easy, any human engineer can accomplish that. You need the chip."

"Yes, his personality."

"His essence, we cannot feel him anymore. Perhaps you can retrieve him. The purple… asshole…? took that from us. May I show you?" The nanite approached.

"Ngk, umm yeah, I could try." 

An appendage, shiny and metallic reached out to him, a fingerless hand touching his face. If Crowley had thought to compare it, he would say he was the recipient of a download of information. Really there wasn't anything there that he didn't already know, just a new order to things. The images that flashed in his mind brought back distant memories of stardust. Manipulation of atoms, that's all it was, creating a star. An electron here, some helium there. It was all about the arrangement. Arranging the energy to retrieve the Kryten, he could see it in his mind but actually pulling it off was another story. "I still need that chip, do you have any idea where it is."

"We can help you with that. Go back where you came, you will know when we find it." The nanites turned away, apparently not bothered by the formalities of goodbyes.

The demon shrugged and turned himself, growing slowly, watching the world change before his eyes. It occurred to him to someday take Aziraphale on a microscopic journey. It was a fascinating world, oddly beautiful, and vastly different, something they hadn't gotten to enjoy in many a millennia. 

He could sense the nanites making their way to the cliff face on which the mechanoid had met his demise, so he followed them, hoping that they would do the digging for him.

Instead of moving away the debris around the site, they began to cover it, a mound of rich black dirt covering the machine, growing up to be level with the land bridge on which the demon stood. On top of the mound a sprig of green began to grow. Crowley smirked when it unfurled its first leaf.

The apple tree grew, or, more precisely, was being constructed, rapidly. Flowers bloomed and fell, buds turning to the familiar fruit. One apple shined brighter and bigger than the rest. The nanites must have taken information from him as they imparted on him theirs, thought Crowley as he picked the fruit. It annoyed him a bit, but he could appreciate the flair for the dramatic. He went to take a bite.

"No, open it." Said a tiny voice before the demon could get a taste.

Crowley took the apple between his fists and broke it in half. Nestled in where the seeds should be was a chip. Kryten's personality chip, the vessel of his soul. He plucked it from the sweet smelling fruit, willing it clean of juice and pulp. It wasn't much larger than his thumbnail. It was amazing how something so small could hold something so big. He tucked it safely away inside his jacket, and bit into half of the broken apple. "'s good," he said as he chewed the sweet fruit. There was no answer, but he knew he was heard. 

Crowley looked at the tree, vibrant green leaves sparkling against a backdrop of death and refuse. "You know," he said thoughtfully as he watched more rockets of escaping Gelfs in the distance, "I think Kryten would agree… this place could certainly use a good tidying up."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you guys weren't too dissapointed with my last update, i know it wasn't a real chapter, but perhaps this one would make up for it.
> 
> How many nanites can dance on the head of a pin? It depends on how large they made the pin.


	32. Chapter 32

Lister was surprised at the progress they had made, especially on the second morning of the rebuild. "I thought you were a musician, not an engineer," he told Bentley when he saw the headway he had made.

"You pick up a lot over three million years, especially when your brain is a computer processor."

He wondered if his presence was more hindrance than help, but he proceeded to sit down at the table across from him anyway and began working on constructing what we would use as a vertebra. "You ever think about it?"

"What?" Bentley asked around the plastic handle of a tiny screwdriver he tended to chew on as he worked.

"Music, y'know, rock and roll?"

"What do you call this?" He referred to the Foo Fighters music that was being piped into the room.

"Performing then."

Bentley sat up from his work. The human seemed to have no problem asking the questions that Crowley seemed too afraid to ask. Questions that he wasn't entirely prepared to answer. "You mean Queen."

"Am I wrong? The body, the music you'd always play…"

"That was another life, David. A life that ended in 1991. Millions of years ago, and unlike you, I've been conscious for them all." 

"If you want me to drop the subject, I can, but you still haven't answered my question. That may work with your demon boss, but I'm not scared of hard answers, even if I don't fully understand them."

"He's not my boss."

"Dad?"

A foggy memory of a hand patting his dash pushed its way to the forefront of Bentley's mind. "Daddy loves you." A demonic voice cooed. What year was that? Sometime in the late 50s? Before the name Freddie Mercury had even been thought up. A human man, with a father's face, held a boy in his lap, a boy called Farrokh. "Crowley is… about as much my dad as this mechanoid was your mum."

Lister smirked, "guess that makes Aziraphale your mum then."

………..

Aziraphale's hands shook as he held the yellowed parchment. It wasn't old, just designed that way. Even after a three million year lapse of communication, the angel recognized the stationary anywhere. Gabriel. No apologies, no "hi, how are you" just another scolding letter written as if they'd never stopped, and ending with an assignment of all things. Like they thought he'd be so desperate to get back in their good books that he'd just jump at the opportunity to do their bidding. If he did what they wanted, he'd be welcome back in heaven, one of them, despite all of his misdeeds.

The worst part of it all was what they wanted him to do. Why in heaven they wanted such a thing was beyond him. He wasn't even sure it was possible, but that didn't seem to stop them telling him to do it. And to top it all off, the part that infuriated him the most, was that he desperately wanted to do it, just not for their reasons. He wanted to do it for Crowley and his pacing guilt, he wanted to do it for Camille and her dripping tears, he wanted to do it for Lister's broken fist. 

Aziraphale wanted to resurrect Kryten.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A rather short chapter, I know. I also know it's been very Bentley heavy recently, I hope that's okay. 
> 
> Comments always welcome.
> 
> Love to you!


	33. Chapter 33

He was whole. Perhaps a bit mismatched and patched, but Kryten had two arms, two legs, and most of his original working parts. He may never pick up radio FM again, and his vacuum suction may not be what it was before, but, if they could manage to bring him back, he would be able to perform his function as Red Dwarf's resident mother hen as well as he ever did, although perhaps a bit slower. Maybe, thought Crowley, that could be fixed with a quick trip to visit, or even retrieve, Kryten's nanites. 

The mechanoid still rested atop the table on which he had been re-assembled. His chest plate lay to the side and Bentley was doing a final round of soldering. Lister worried at the ankle joint of a leg he'd constructed to match the one given by Kevin, who now stood on one good leg, the other having been replaced by a length of metal piping, the foot attached to it having been made on Fushal. He had a leg on order, but it would be quite sometime before the replacement would be finished. He didn't mind. He counted himself fortunate to even have the option of a new limb. 

The lab had expanded in square footage to accommodate the onlookers, each watching with bites breath to see if they were to have a celebration that day...or a funeral. Cat stood close, almost breathing over Lister's shoulder. The man was somewhat surprised at the felines concern. He was good at appearing to not care, but when it came down to it Kryten was a "bud", and therefore listed among those most important in his life. Cat's "babe", The Witch, stood off to the side with The Boss and The Scientist, the latter of which was fighting the urge to peer over Bentley's shoulder and backseat drive. 

Camille stood cradling Kryten's head, it's eyes closed though it was attached to the body. If he did awaken she wanted him to be the first one he saw. Apo and Sistrin clung to each other in one corner of the room. They had been welcomed by Camille, but still felt a bit out of place. Sistrin's English wasn't terrible, and with newly minted magic she felt free to explore relationships with others that could be wholly platonic. Getting settled into a leadership role among the refugees who now called cargo bay three their temporary home was different that fitting in with the elite group of misfits that now surrounded her. 

Rimmer stood back straight against the wall on which Crowley leaned, together they watched a nervous angel pace a hole into the remaining space of the room. "He ever, you know, bring someone back?" Rimmer whispered to the demon, in reference to his husband.

"Nah, that was more of Jesus' thing. Angels are supposed to stick to healing. I suppose it's different with droids. I've brought a few back online before with a simple fix. But Death himself took Kryten so… apparently that requires a lot of paperwork and a mandate from an archangel. Zira got the letter a few days ago."

"Then he should be able to do it, right? Why is he so nervous?"

"He hasn't gotten any sort of communication, reprimand or otherwise, from the host since after the first Armageddon. Three million years. I haven't either. We weren't even sure they hadn't had their war anyway and killed each other off. The fact that they contact him now, and for this is…"

"Disturbing."

"Right. He's afraid of their motives." And the fact that they knew how to find them, thought Crowley. Had they kept tabs on them the entire time?

Aziraphale's worries were not only about the sudden contact, but what it meant if he obeyed. Would it appears to Gabriel that he was trying to get back on heaven's good side? Why is Kryten's life so important to the host that they would bother with a mountain of some of the most annoyingly complex paperwork imaginable. It was next to impossible to get a resurrection approved. The only reason Jesus got away with it was nepotism and everyone being too afraid to scold him on his tendency to brush off any and all paperwork. Why was he being told to perform one now? Did heaven recognize the mechanoid as a pure soul whose life was taken from him too soon? Unlikely. What was more likely was that they had some sort of ulterior motives behind the move. What if it wasn't Kryten who came back at all? What if it was Sandalphon, or worse, Gabriel coming to finally smite his demon? His pacing increased in speed and his hands wrung until his knuckles turned white.

At last Bentley sat up and pulled the screwdriver from his mouth. He switched off the soldering iron and turned on the external battery pack that was being used as a back up in addition to Kryten's fully charged internal one. The small jumper cables attached to the mechanoid's nipple nuts reminded Lister of jump starting a car. The process really wasn't much different. Reboots always took extra power. "Aside from cosmetic stuff I'm done here." Bentley stood up, and backed away, leaving room for the angel to lay on hands. When the angel didn't seem to notice he cleared his throat.

"Oh!" Aziraphale jumped, a blush spreading on his face, all eyes in the room were on him. "I… yes, just a moment, I need to… pra-prepare. Back in a mo-" he smiled nervously and shuffled out the door to the hall in between. 

When all the eyes turned to Crowley instead he rolled his own and followed his husband out of the room. 

Crowley found Aziraphale in St James Park, or at least the replica in the pocket dimension across the hall from the lab. The angel sat on their usual bench, clutching Schmoopie, the hallucination turned dog that spent most of its time chasing ducks in the park. He nuzzled against its fluffy white fur, the animal eating up the attention. The demon sat next to him, looking out over the water, watching the fowl swimming there. Times like this he could almost hear the voices of long dead humans chatting against the background noise of a long gone London. 

"Y'know," drawled Crowley, "you're spoiling that beast."

"She's not spoiled she's happy."

"She's getting fat."

"She's pregnant."

"Wha- how?"

"Perhaps it was Lister subconsciously wanting puppies, perhaps…" Aziraphale pointed straight up. 

"Immaculate conception in a dog?" Crowley made a face.

"Where do you think our cat friends came from?"

"Thought that was a big Tom on Titan. 's what Lister said."

"And he was there for that?"

"Hrrmph, hope not. Look, puppies, great," he patted the dog on the head, "congrats." He took off his glasses, looking Aziraphale in the eye. "You know there's a room full of people waiting on you. Gotta. Y'know, get a wiggle… and all."

"I suppose."

"You don't want to, do you?"

Aziraphale looked away, holding the dog like a shield against his emotions.

"Is it Gabriel? I know you don't want to do what that prick says."

"But they're our friends."

"What if I give it a go then?"

Aziraphale perked up, "Oh! Would you?" He beamed.

"C'mon."

The room was quiet when the celestials came back in. More than one set of eyes widened when Crowley took the place beside Kryten which had been reserved for his angel. Putting one hand on a rubber forehead and another over a chestplate hiding a motherboard and a very precious chip, he sent out a silent prayer and closed his eyes. Searching the knowledge given to him by the nanites he began to trickle power in, calling a soul he found waiting and eager. The lights dimmed and there was a burst of power. 

Kryten sat up. He was face to face with a grinning David Lister. Slowly, without saying a word, Kryten lifted his arms, reaching out to the scouser's neck.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One more chapter to go


	34. Chapter 34

Lister couldn't help but laugh at he was embraced by heavy metal arms. He hugged back, tears rolling down his cheeks. His embrace was joined by Rimmer, who threw an arm over the mechanoid's shoulders, the other over Lister. "Welcome back, old chum," mumbled the hologram, only loud enough for them to hear. It would have been a touching moment had they not all been almost bowled over by a pouncing Cat. Hologram strength was the only thing that kept the mechanoid on the table.

"Dear me," apologized Kryten, as they helped him right himself, "I do believe my balance may be just a touch off."

"Still a bit of tweaking left to do, Krytes, we'll get you back to normal in no time."

Kryten looked down at the mismatched mismash that was now his body, like many who have experienced trauma, he couldn't quite recall the actual event, just waking up dead. And now as he awoke again there was a new sensation, traumatizing in it's own way, of finding his body was not quite what it once was. No matter, he told himself, I'm alive and I have-

"Kryten." Came a soft voice from beside him. He wasn't the only one to look to Camille. The assorted backslapping and hugs he was receiving ceased and the boys backed away. She had tears in her eyes. He reached out to her, she stepped into his arms and into his embrace, peppering him with soft kisses. 

……….. .

"I don't understand," said Lister, "why would this Gabriel bloke want me dead… I'm a nobody."

"That's not true, dear boy," explained Aziraphale, "you are the last living human."

Lister frowned, "there's got…" he paused, fighting a sob, "there's got to be others… right?"

"That is what we were hoping, but I'm afraid Gabriel has confirmed our worst fears. Humanity ends with you."

"And if you die they can have their Armageddon." Elaborated Crowley, as he leaned against the wall, trying his best not to look like the whole idea wasn't scaring the smeg out of him.

"What about the cats… and Gelfs… and whatever else is out there. Do they just die? Cats are from Earth… Don't Gelfs have at least some humam DNA? And I thought you had to have an Antichrist or something… and those horse smeggers."

"It seems," said Aziraphale, wringing his hands, "that the host has found a loophole."

"A loophole? This isn't double jeopardy! This is lives… the universe… everything!" Cried Rimmer, "they can't expect to turn Kryten into some assassin bot 9000 just so they can play a giant game of celestial Risk!"

"I don't know much about your risky game, but I do know chess," Aziraphale pulled a king from mid air, "and it appears we are in check. If Kryten were to slay Lister," he held out the chess piece.

Rimmer plucked it up, "check mate." 

"They can't possibly think that silly plan would work," protested Camille from her perch at the mechanoid's side, "Kryten would never harm Lister." 

Cat nodded vigorously, exclaiming "yeah! Robo bud wouldn't even kill a mouse."

Lister spoke up at this, "Suppose I've got that going for me, at least."

"Well, you see sir, I did promise them that I would kill you. It was the stipulation of me coming back. They were very adamant. I won't be able to return to silicon heaven if I don't. I made a promise."

Lister's eyes went wide, "you what?

"Oh yes, but, unfortunately for them, I knew something they didn't…" Kryten did a wiggle his eyebrows raiding conspiratorially as he leaned in close to the human, "I knew that I was lying!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I will probably add an epilogue to this, something fluffy to lighten things up before I start on the insanity that will be part four.


End file.
